Rising from the Ashes
by frecklesncurls
Summary: It is the apocalypse. Sam and Dean are lost on what to do next until Castiel tells them of a weapon that has angels talking and, more importantly, demons running. They search out this weapon and what they find is not what they expected. With this weapon in hand, the Winchesters have a chance to fight what they started: the end of the world. (Season 5 timeline, but spins off.)
1. Chapter 1

**First fanfiction piece here, people. Hope you enjoy! Gosh, I have missed creative writing. Also, I'm currently on Season 5, so this is coming from the information I know about characters/plot so far, so if I'm ahead of where you are in the series, be warned! Possible spoilers!  
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Chapter 1- The Weapon

_God, what I wouldn't give for some pie right now._

Dean checked the clock on the small bedside table a few feet away from him. In glowing red letters, it hummed that 3:30 in the morning was too late for pie, meaning it was too late for Dean to still be awake.

It was a miracle to get sleep nowadays. With Sam setting off the apocalypse, sleep was now a luxury for Dean. It seemed that whenever he thought he had gotten Sam out of dodge, Sam got himself knee-deep in something even worse.

More danger. More lives at stake. More Sam is at stake. Less sleep for Dean.

Dean was awoken from his thoughts as he heard a small snore from the other bed in the room. He let a smile stretch across his lips as he watched Sam sleep. The kid was lying on his stomach, sprawled out with each of his limbs hanging off the edge. No cheap motel bed could adequately hold Sam's towering height, leaving the younger brother with few options on sleep positioning. He developed a system over the years, which seemed to be successful, according to the second snore that escaped his lips. It was incredible how easily he could sleep with the world quickly becoming more chaotic by the day.

That was it, though. Dean's job was to make it easy for Sam to sleep at night. He was the big brother and that meant he was supposed to take care of his little brother. He was supposed to bear the weight that Sam's shoulders couldn't, or shouldn't have to, carry. As unfair as it felt sometimes, Dean was willing to grimace and move on. He went to Hell for Sam. Compared to that, what was a little stress to Dean Winchester?

Dean's stomach growled menacingly under the cheap sheets. Dean could hold his ground in more areas than not and would fight tooth and nail to hold that ground. However, when it came to hunger, Dean was a pansy. He glanced at the clock again, then at the keys that were lying next to it. _I could leave really quick. I wouldn't be longer than ten minutes, fifteen at the most. That's plenty of time to grab a slice. _His stomach objected, a little louder this time. _Okay, maybe two. Three if Sam would eat one. Yeah, I'll grab it for me and Sammy._

His fingers almost touched the keys when a familiar voice said, "Dean. Get up."

Dean started and instinctively reached for the knife under his pillow. He searched for the intruder and found him standing in the middle of the room, wearing a disheveled trench coat and a slightly confused look.

Dean sighed, stuffing the knife back under the pillow. "Jeez, Cass. Don't you believe in letting people sleep? I mean, I get that the world is ending and all, but how am I to get anything done without some beauty sleep?" Dean gestured to the developing bags under his eyes for good measure.

Cass urged, in a slightly louder voice, "There is no time. You need to leave immediately."

Dean shushed him and motioned towards Sam. During the whole conversation, Sam hadn't awoken and Dean wanted to get some answers before taking Sam away from the first good night sleep he had had in a long time.

Dean threw back the covers and shivered as he put on the pair of jeans he had left on the floor. "What's the rush? Hold on, how'd you find us anyways? I thought we had an angelic Invisibility Cloak carved into our rib cages."

Cass cocked his head ever so slightly. "You told me that you would be here if I should have need of you. At 118 Oliver Way."

Dean rubbed his hands over the stubble on his face. _I need a shave…and a few doses of sleeping pills._ "You're right, Cass. I forgot. So, you 'have need of us'?"

Cass stared at Dean. Dean had at first been thrown off by Cass' intense stares, but had become numb to the soul-piercing baby blues over time. He hardly noticed now.

"Yes, Dean. I may have found our weapon against the apocalypse. The asset to defeat Lucifer."

Dean felt his eyebrows raise in surprise. Cass always seemed to lean towards the dramatic, but defeating the King of Hell was outright crazy talk. It had been thrown around once or twice, but Dean never really thought could be achieved. _Could Cass really have found a way to end all of this?_

Dean threw a pillow at Sam, who awoke and clumsily grabbed for the knife under his pillow. Dean shouted, "Hey, sleepy head. We have a visitor."

Sam squinted at Cass, knife still raised in the air. Cass calmly switched his gaze from the knife to Sam. After a moment, Sam lowered his hand and mumbled groggily, "Hey, Castiel."

After Sam got dressed with his eyes half open and Dean relayed the news, the two brothers each sat on their bed, both facing Castiel in anticipation for an elaboration. Cass replied by staring at them both.

Dean and Sam shared a glance. "Um…plan on sharing with the class in this century, Cass?"

Castiel resumed, "I have heard talk from angels of something powerful. Something that demons fear. It has been only brief bits of information, scattered and random. I think they are trying to keep their knowledge of this weapon secretive. The demons would quickly destroy anything they thought we would use against them."

Sam asked, "Do you know what this 'weapon' is? What it does?"

Dean interjected, "Does it kill demons? Is it some name-brand holy water? A special kind of demon-downing knife? A lifetime supply of salt?"

Castiel shook his head. "All I know is the address to find it at. You must leave now though. You may not be the only one looking for her and you do not want to cross paths with opposition. Evil is growing stronger."

Dean met eyes with Sam and they exchanged a look. The hope of an end to all the fighting, the chasing, the constant paranoia was almost too good to believe. Still, hope was one of the only things to cling onto these days. Without hope, Dean knew he wouldn't have lasted as long as he had so far. _It's worth checking out, at least._

Sam grimaced and Dean nodded. They knew what they were going to do. Dean slapped his knees as he stood. "Well, Cass. I guess we'll be needing that address…and the closest place with a slice of pie."


	2. Chapter 2

**Sorry about all of this character development and inner struggle stuff. Talk about SNORE! I promise, some butt-kicking is on its way!**

Chapter 2- The Little White Church

Two days of driving and the inside of the Impala was silent. It was Dean's turn to drive, leaving Sam to get some sleep and Dean time to think.

While they had mostly patched up, the Winchester brothers' relationship was still, in a word, uncomfortable. Dean still felt a bitter taste in his mouth as he recalled the most recent event: Sam abandoning him for Ruby, a demon who used the younger Winchester to leave the gate of Hell wide open for the man himself, Lucifer. Dean tried to blame the whole ordeal on the black-eyed home wrecker, but deep down, he knew it was Sam who closed the door on Dean, not Ruby. While Dean had come to a point to where he could forgive Sam, the relationship had still taken damage. No matter how many times Sam apologized and Dean forgave, there was always going to be the fact that Sam released Lucifer and began the end of the world in the back of Dean's mind.

A pothole awoke Dean from his thoughts and brought him back to the present. He stroked the Impala's dash and cooed, "Sorry, Baby. I'm a little out of it today."

He read the address Sam had scribbled on a napkin again. It was taking them to the southeastern part of Ohio, a small town by the name of Circleville. Sam had researched it while Dean packed their stuff, but nothing stood out in the results.

Sam had asked, squinting at the luminated computer screen, "Don't you think there would be _something_ happening if this 'weapon' is such a big deal? Someone had to have seen or heard something if it got to Castiel, right?"

Dean glanced up from the clothes he was stuffing in a plastic bag. "I don't know, man. If demons are trying to keep this 'weapon' to themselves, they probably don't want to stir up trouble."

Sam nodded and stared back down at the computer screen. "I suppose so. Hey, Dean?"

Dean continued to pack. "Yeah, Sammy?"

"Do you think this could be it? Our shot at stopping Lucifer? At…cleaning up my mess?"

Dean stopped and bit the inside of his cheek. He could hear the hope in Sam's voice and after years of hearing that same hope, he still couldn't squash it. He turned to his little brother and felt an even stronger pang of guilt. Sam wasn't doing too well hiding what he wanted to hear Dean say. His green eyes still did that dopey doe-eyed thing that suckered both Dean and their dad countless times. Dean felt the words weigh down on his tongue, but he chose to swallow them. He grinned at Sam, saying nonchalantly, "I don't see why not. Lucifer has to have a weakness too. We'll just have to find it."

Sam gave him a small smile, then closed the computer with a snap and started to pack. When Sam turned his back, Dean let his own smile drop and started tying his shoes. He had stopped trying to fool himself a long time ago.

Another pothole shook Dean out of the past. He swore under his breath. _Haven't these people ever heard of asphalt?_

Two hours later, Dean found the address Cas had given them. In front of him was a small, white church sitting on top of a grassy hill. It was October, so the leaves had already changed and were starting to dot the grass with a spectrum of colors. The church was graced with a small cross on its steeple and a few cars in the parking lot.

Dean rolled up the graveled driveway and parked in the parking lot. Sam blinked and sat up, stretching his arms so they touched each side of the car. "Are we here?"

"Yep." Dean held up the napkin and pointed at a sign with chipping paint and a matching address. "'Circleville Community Church'." He turned to his brother. "Get any sleep?"

Sam tucked his long hair behind his ears. "Not really. Just kind of dozed in and out."

Dean nodded and squinted up at the building. There were lights on inside, letting off a soft, orange glow. Dean never felt comfortable in churches. He never took the time to analyze why and was content with steering clear of them whenever possible. He squirmed at the warmth the light seemed to emit in the pit of his stomach.

Sam commented, "Looks like there are people inside."

Dean swallowed the nausea he began to feel. "Yeah." He opened the door and got out of the Impala. Sam followed suit. After a moment, Dean turned to Sam, resting an elbow on the hood of the Impala. "I don't know, Sam. This doesn't look like a place to hide a demon-killing weapon. Sure you got the address, right?"

That's when they heard the scream.


	3. Chapter 3

**Sorry for it being so long since there was an update. Got them written, but did a lot of editing before I was satisfied to post. Here's a gift of TWO chapters in one update for your patience!  
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Chapter 3- The Demon  
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The double doors at the front of the church crashed open as Sam and Dean charged in. Dean had his shotgun raised and Sam clutched the demon knife, poised and ready for whatever lay behind the church doors.

The scene in front of them was eerily silent and out of the five strangers who stood by the church alter, not a single head turned towards the Winchesters. The attention of the group was all to the center, where a teenage girl sat hunched over in a chair. Her whole body was tense, her hands white from gripping the edge of the seat. Dean could hear her heavy breathing from the back of the church. Something was wrong.

A man stood in front of her, his hand firmly grasping her head. His peppered hair shook as he shouted, "In Jesus' name, leave her!"

The girl flinched, then snapped her head up at the man. Dean felt Sam tense up as they saw the girl's eyes were completely black. She was possessed.

She cocked her head, grinning evilly at the man. "You've grown weak in your old age, pastor. You'll have to do better than that to get me to vacate her."

The pastor faltered for a moment, then yelled angrily, "Quiet, demon! I said leave her!"

Dean had never seen anyone react to a demon possession like this guy before, especially a pastor. Most of the people they encountered in their travels would have been high tailing it to the nearest police station by now, screaming the whole way there. While he knew chatting with the demon wouldn't do any good without a little help from holy water and an exorcism reading, Dean was curious to see how this guy's method played out.

Sam began to step forward, but Dean held his jacket sleeve. "Wait." As Dean spoke, the girl's head turned towards the brothers. She sneered, "Well, well. Look who decided to join the party: The Winchester boys."

Every eye followed her gaze and found Sam and Dean. The girl was the only one who didn't look surprised at the new arrivals. Dean lowered the gun slightly, trying to look the least threatening possible. Under the circumstances, he knew it was a weak attempt at best. They weren't exactly dressed in their Sunday best and toting a shotgun probably didn't help. Inducing panic in a group of Bible thumpers was the last thing Dean needed to add to the already sticky situation.

The girl tried to stand, but the pastor yelled, "I command you to sit!" She fell back into the chair, gripping the sides again. She struggled, as if invisible ropes bound her. She gritted through her teeth, "You two would show up here. You know, you're far too curious for your own good."

Sam yanked away from Dean's grip and growled, "You talk too much for your own good." He turned to Dean and whispered, "We don't need this, Dean. Let's waste her."

The girl piped in. "Oh, aren't you eager? Just how do you plan to do that, Sammy? You wouldn't stab a thirteen year old girl, would you?" She jerked her chin towards a couple that was staring horrified at her. "Her parents wouldn't like that too much."

Dean saw Sam spinning the knife blade agitatedly in his hand. He knew Sam was eager to prove himself trustworthy to Dean and the oldest Winchester feared what Sam was willing to do blindly to earn that trust. He was too much like their dad in that way, thinking the least when it counted the most. Dean warned quietly, "Sammy…"

The girl smirked at Dean. "Oh, stop it, Dean. You're spoiling all of Sam's fun." She turned towards Sam and whispered seductively, "You know, Sam. You wouldn't need to kill her if you…jumped back on the wagon." She held out her arm and said, "It's a win-win. You save the girl _and_ get a fix. What do you say?"

Dean saw Sam lower the blade slightly, staring at her arm intently. He began to take a step toward her when the girl suddenly flung her body back and released a scream. A voice yelled behind the two Winchesters, "I say that you don't belong here, demon!"

The boys turned to see a young woman standing behind them, her blue eyes focused on the girl. The girl let out another scream, shielding herself from the woman. She wailed, "Please! Please stop!"

The woman walked between Sam and Dean, continuing, "You will leave her this instant! You will not return and you will make the others aware that they are not welcome either!"

The girl was now writhing on the floor, howling, "Stop, please! I'll go, I'll go!"

The woman reached her hand out towards the girl and commanded, "In Jesus' name, leave!"

The girl threw her head back and black smoke escaped her mouth. As the smoke evaporated, the girl collapsed, unconscious. The woman kneeled down beside her, inspecting her. As the woman checked to make sure the girl was okay, the pastor watched the whole ordeal, pale and quiet. When done, the woman touched his shoulder, awaking him from the shock. She said quietly, "She should be fine, but I think you should call 9-1-1." She turned to the parents, who had both fallen to the floor and were clutching the girl's body. "Just as a precaution."

Dean watched the scene in shock. She had exorcised that demon with a few words, no weapon or chanting needed. Even Sam had needed demon blood to exorcise a demon out of someone without killing them and afterwards, he could hardly stand. This chick was hardly out of breath. _Oh, God. She can't be it…_

Dean quietly whistled, signaling his brother that it was time to leave. It took a quick yank on Sam's jacket to get him to register. Sam shook himself awake and turned to Dean. He mouthed, "Is she the…?" Dean nodded. She was what they were looking for, their weapon. They needed to talk shop somewhere else and figure out what they were going to do next. Their world-saving weapon being a 5'6" woman was definitely a hitch in what little of a plan they had.

The two Winchesters slowly began to back away when the young woman spun on her heel and marched towards them. She yelled, "Hey! You two! Wait a minute!"


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4- The Exorcist

Dean and Sam both glanced at the door, then at each other. She was too close to outrun, which meant she had to be outsmarted. They turned to her, smiling while tucking their weapons behind their backs.

She slowed to a stop in front of them. She switched her gaze between them, then said quietly, "Is there a reason you'll be needing that?" She looked down at the shotgun poking behind Dean's back, then back to him.

Now that Dean got a good look at her, he saw how young the woman was. Her commanding presence made her seem much older at first glance, but up close, he saw she couldn't have been past twenty-five. _She's hot too._ Her deep red hair cascaded down in big, lazy curls, stopping at her chest. She wore a dark green shirt that intensified her crystal blue eyes. Her nose was slightly crinkled, drawing attention to the fading freckles on her cheeks.

Giving her one more look down, Dean slowly brought both arms out in surrender, then placed the shotgun down on a nearby pew. Sam did the same with the demon knife. Dean said suavely, "Nah. We just like to stir up trouble." Out of the corner of his eye, Dean saw Sam roll his eyes.

The pastor perked up at the sound of Dean's voice, stood, then yelled, "I want them out of here!"

The woman spun around and said indignantly, "Excuse me?"

The pastor stomped down to the threesome and pointed his finger at Sam and Dean, their arms still up. "I want these devil-worshipers out of here now!"

Dean snorted and even Sam cracked a smile. Dean asked, "You think we're devil worshipers, pastor? C'mon. Do we look like the blood-chugging, spell-chanting type?"

The pastor glared at Dean. He growled, "That infernal thing knew your names: Sam and Dean. I have never heard a demon use names before."

The woman turned to Dean and whispered inquisitively, "Is that true?"

Dean opened his mouth to answer when the pastor grabbed his shirt and pulled him close enough to touch noses. He snarled, steadily growing louder, "I know something is not right about you two. Are you Satanists? Are you affiliated with it? Did you summon it into Lucy?"

The woman stepped in between the two men, just as Dean was going to rip the old man a new one. She gently placed a hand on his shoulder and her voice softened. "Pastor John, your granddaughter is going to be fine. These men are not the enemy. That demon and the evil it serves is."

The pastor's eyes were shining with tears as he stared back at Dean. After a moment, the anger faded and he released Dean's shirt. He whispered, "I'm sorry, son." Dean was unsure what to do next. The old man looked pitiful and worn out, which made it near impossible for Dean to hold a grudge against him. However, actually exhibiting this was the hard part. Handling the people part of the job effortlessly again, Sam put a hand on the pastor's other shoulder and said consolingly, "She's going to be okay, Pastor John." He hesitated for a moment, then added, "She'll be weak, but she'll be okay. We've seen this before."

Dean clenched his jaw, knowing his brother had given too much away. The pastor didn't seem to notice, sniffing as he patted Sam's shoulder in gratitude before walking back to the family. Dean knew that last statement wouldn't get past the red head so easily, so he clapped his hands together. "Well, we have to be going. Nice meeting you. Hallelujah and all that." He snatched up the shotgun and strode out of the building, hoping Sam had followed suit.

He opened the trunk of the Impala, placing the shotgun back in its proper place. He heard the heavy clomp of Sam's stride behind him, then beside him. Sam was placing the knife back in its pouch when Dean whispered over to him, "You nearly gave us away, dude. I don't care if the Pope is crying on your shoulder, you don't make rookie mistakes like that."

Sam turned to his brother and smiled. "I know what I'm doing." Dean was about to ask for an explanation when he heard someone say behind him, "Well, you guys take the Boy Scout's motto pretty seriously."

Dean glared at his brother before turning around, coming face to face with the woman again. She was grinning, making the Boy Scout hand gesture with her right hand, her left tucked behind her back. "Be prepared and all that."

Dean's mouth twinged upwards at her recycling his joke. He wore a mockingly serious expression and said solemnly, "Haven't you heard? The zombie apocalypse is happening any day now. We have to be ready."

The woman smiled, then peered around Dean. "So, holy water is the way to do zombies in? Wouldn't have guessed that…Dean."

Dean replied as he snapped the trunk shut. "Like I said, we have to be ready. For anything." _She's a quick one too_.

She smirked, putting her hands on her hips. She asked, "Your brother had said you hadn't eaten for a while. Would you guys like some breakfast for dinner? I know a great spot…I'll even cover the bill."

Dean looked to his brother and found him smiling smugly back. Sam knew he had baited her well and had even succeeded in getting a free meal out of it. Dean rolled his eyes at him, then looked back to the woman. He shrugged nonchalantly and said, as he walked to the driver's side door, "We'll follow you…" He looked over his shoulder. "Um, didn't catch a name."

She had already started walking to her car. She tossed over her shoulder, "Naomi."

Once Sam was in the Impala and Naomi in her Honda Civic, Dean said, "Well, this is a first. I'm going to dinner with a class A exorcist."

Sam grinned. "Who comes with the _highest_ of recommendations."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Too far, Sammy. Too far."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5- The Truth

Dean found himself pulling into a parking space along the main square of the quaint downtown area. He got out of the car, scanning for a neon sign advertising breakfast, finding none. In fact, besides a few local businesses, there weren't many signs advertising anything. He called out to Naomi, who had parked in the space in front of him, "We don't eat souls for breakfast, Ginger. We need real food and I'm not smelling any."

Naomi rolled her eyes at the nickname, grinning. "Wow, aren't you original." She gestured to an old brick building a few feet away from the group. "We're eating here. They're pretty good about offering a wide variety." She looked up to the sky as she counted on her fingers. "Blood sacrifices, firstborns, and for the really picky eaters, eggs and bacon."

Dean returned the eye roll as he walked over to the building. He mumbled, "She's a comedian too. Perfect." Sam smirked behind him as he followed.

A small bell rang above the door frame, welcoming the trio into a small café. An eclectic collection of tables and chairs dotted the room, some under various small rugs while others rested on the dark hardwood floor. Soft jazz music played softly over the intercom, temporarily interrupted by an order being called.

Dean grabbed Naomi's arm, spinning her around to face him. "What about this place did you think tailors to us?" He gestured between him and Sam, garbed in dirty jackets and worn jeans, then at the restaurant. "This looks like a hippie commune rest stop."

Naomi playfully shoved his arm off of her. "C'mon, it isn't that bad. I've heard talk that this is one of America's best kept secrets." She pointed to the chalkboard menu hanging on the wall. "See, they have all sorts of stuff: muffins, crepes and pancakes."

Dean whined, "Whole wheat pancakes! That's not even real pancakes! What's wrong with white flour?"

Sam elbowed Dean in the ribs. He whispered, "C'mon, Dean. She's paying, so she's allowed to pick the place. We're eating here."

Dean glared at his brother, then shot a mock smile to Naomi, who smugly had her hands resting on her hips. "Well, what are we waiting for?"

Naomi smiled coyly before patting his arm as she walked up to the counter to order. "Don't worry, Dean. Stranger things have happened than whole wheat pancakes."

Dean exchanged a look with Sam. He murmured under his breath, "You have no idea."

After they had ordered their food, they sat at the corner table farthest from the door. Dean flopped into the chair where he could best see the front door while Sam found the seat where the back was most visible. Naomi looked between the two's seating arrangement, then snuggled into the armchair next to Sam.

The three were silent. Neither Dean nor Sam knew how to address their presence at the church nor the fact that Naomi was the key to stopping the oncoming apocalypse. After a few minutes of looking for a conversation starter, Naomi said, twirling her drink straw, "So, you guys are accustomed to demons, huh?"

The two boys started at her abruptness. Sam stuttered, "I-I guess you could say that."

She asked, "Are you two missionaries?"

Dean nearly choked on his coffee. "Do we look like missionaries to you?"

She bit her lip. "Evangelists?"

A corner of Sam's mouth turned up as he shook his head.

Naomi threw her hands up in the air. "All right, I have no idea then. I have never seen two people more calm in a possession situation before and trust me, I have seen my share of them."

Sam asked, "Wait. How many possessions have you dealt with?"

Naomi shrugged as she sipped her milk. "At least a hundred."

Dean stared at her, shocked. "How old are you?"

Naomi stiffened a little. "Twenty-five. Why does that matter?"

Dean shook his head, ignoring the question. "You must have been doing this since you were in diapers. Is this your job? Exorcising demons?"

Naomi shrugged again. "Not really. I'm usually invited to speak at different churches on what the Bible says about the supernatural. I usually talk about the different situations that I've encountered too, but that's more for bringing the point home. Pastors want their congregations to be aware that there is a war going on that we can't see. That's why I was at the church tonight; for their evening service." She smiled. "It's usually rare for the supernatural to meet me at the door."

Dean could feel his mouth hanging slightly open. He closed it. This chick knows more about what's going on than most of the world. Dean leaned forward, his arms resting on his knees. "Do you think we're in the apocalypse?"

Naomi thoughtfully bit her lip before answering. "I think that there is a lot of evidence of the End Times being closer than we want it to be. Revelation talks a lot about natural disasters, wars, the death toll rising. A lot of that is happening now, so I guess we could be in the middle of it. However, while we may think this is bad, there could be a 'worse' coming down the road. Jesus is supposed to come back after the End Times and the Bible says we won't know when that will be. Short answer long, I don't know."

Dean looked to his brother. Sam was nodding, agreeing with every word. He is into the whole religious thing. I guess it isn't too shocking he's on the same page as her. Dean shook his head. "You really believe in God and the whole Jesus-is-coming-back stuff?"

Sam shot Dean a glare, but waited to hear Naomi's reply.

Naomi smiled softly. "I do. I get it, it's a lot to swallow." She placed her cup down on the table, then leaned towards Dean. "Look, I won't claim that I know all the answers. In fact, the more I grow in my faith, the less I realize I know. However, that's the whole point of faith. To trust that Someone is taking care of everything and has a good plan for me, even when I don't understand the whys and hows."

Dean opened his mouth to reply, but the food's arrival silenced him. As the waiter placed the plate in front of him, Dean tried to not drool. The pancakes were covered in chocolate chips and drenched in maple syrup. They smelled delicious and it took everything in him to put on a grimace for show. He poked at the stack with a fork, ignoring the steam that floated from the food. He wasn't about to let Sam get the satisfaction of proving him wrong.

Sam rolled his eyes, picking up a half of his breakfast burrito. "Will you just give it a try?"

Dean gave one more sneer before cutting a wedge of pancakes and stuffing it into his mouth. He suppressed a groan. It tasted even better than it looked.

After the three had eaten quietly for a few minutes, Naomi stated, "You know, you guys still never answered my question."

Dean met his brother's eyes over the coffee mug he was drinking out of. He replied, around a mouthful of pancake, "I don't remember a question."

"Why were you guys so unfazed by the demon?"

Dean chewed, concocting a lie to tell her. He met her eyes, ready to let it loose, when he stopped. Something about her eyes made him pause. After a moment, he realized they were full of innocence. Despite all that she had seen, there still remained ignorance to the ugly truth of the real world that Dean lived his entire life. It seemed like he was always the one to put that light out of others' eyes, out of all the people they came across, and he was tired of it. It made him angry.

He found himself answering. "It's our job to kill them." 


	6. Chapter 6

**I'm so sorry for it being almost a month between posted chapters, guys! Between Finals Week and recovering from Finals Week, I haven't really touched the story in a while. However, that's all over now and I can get back to it! Hoping to post a few more chapters before the spring semester! Again, thank you for your patience, your time, and your comments!**

Chapter Six- The Truth Elaborated

"What?" Naomi held her fork in midair, exchanging a look between them. Sam was staring wide eyed at Dean, his jaw set. "Dean…"

Naomi held up a hand, dropping her fork back on her plate. "No, hold up. What did you say?"

Dean glanced at Sam, who shook his head a fraction. He repeated, as he dunked his piece of pancake in a puddle of syrup, "It's our job to kill demons."

Naomi cracked a smile. "Demons can't be killed."

Dean leaned over his plate, smiling back. "Oh, yes they can. In fact, we think _you _can kill them." He pointed at her with his fork, then ate the pancake off of it.

Naomi turned to Sam, still smiling. "Seriously?" Sam stared back at her, swallowing hard. The smile slowly fell off her face and she turned back to Dean. "You know, what I did back there didn't _kill _the demon. It just exorcised it. It isn't dead."

Dean swallowed. "We know. Like we said, we think you _can _kill demons. We aren't the only ones either."

Sam smacked the table and leaned forward. He hissed through his teeth, "Dean, you're going to scare her off."

Naomi smiled again. "Trust me, Dean. I already know I'm on the Enemy's radar."

The two turned to her. Sam asked, "What do you mean?"

"Look, I've seen more supernatural activity in the past couple of months than I have in years. I've gotten more invitations to speak than I can keep up with. His time of keeping to the shadows is over. He's becoming more open and aggressive."

Sam looked down at his shoes. Dean could almost see the guilt weighing on his shoulders, causing them to pitifully sink. Dean knew they were both thinking of the major reason why Lucifer was having a hay day on the world.

Dean half-heartedly snorted as he met Naomi's eyes. "You make it sound like we're in a war."

Naomi stared somberly at him. "I think we are. The world is under attack and everyone has to make the choice of whether they are going to choose a side or be caught in the crossfires and be put on a side regardless. Good and Evil are fighting over mankind."

Dean stared at her, wary of how wise beyond her years she was. "Care to elaborate?"

Naomi slowly nodded. "Pastor John said that demon knew your names. You're a soul, a prize to be won, just like every other soul on this planet. To Evil, win a soul and they've stolen something precious from Heaven's side. It's their way of getting their jab in."

"I would think there's a lot more of a win to getting a soul then just for bragging rights."

"Not really. We aren't of any use to Satan other than to lead others to him. He hates us, but he hates God more. So, he takes what is most precious to Him for as long as he can."

Dean leaned back and pinched the bridge of his nose. He was getting a headache and he could feel his blood pressure rising. _She has no idea what the truth is. She hasn't seen what we have, no matter how many demons she's exorcised. _ "You definitely have a lot to say on the subject."

Naomi shyly twirled her straw. "It's my passion. I could go on for hours."

Sam smiled at her. "Kind of a weird passion, don't you think?"

She smiled back. "You're one to talk. I'm taking it that tonight wasn't your first rodeo with a demon." She looked them over. "You don't really look like this is a part-time thing for you guys either."

Dean mumbled, "I think we clean up better than most. You should see some of the other people we work with."

Naomi cocked her head. "There are others like you?"

Sam interjected, looking uncomfortable with how fast this was moving. "The term we usually use is…'hunters'."

Naomi glanced between them. "Because you…hunt demons."

Dean shrugged, cutting off another wedge of pancake. "Demons, ghosts, vampires, you name it. If it isn't normal, we're there with a loaded shotgun."

Sam suddenly stood up, towering over the other two. "Dean, can we talk outside for a second?" His tone was dark, signaling Dean that a joke would be ill-advised.

Dean wiped his mouth with a napkin, then stood. He turned towards Naomi, who stared worriedly at Sam. "Looks like I'm being summoned. We'll be back soon." He motioned towards his plate as he followed Sam out of the restaurant. "Don't touch my pancakes."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven- The Decision

"Dean! What about _any_ of that was giving her the truth slow and easy?" Sam swung his long arm towards the restaurant. "What were you thinking?"

Dean replied nonchalantly, "She isn't like the other people we've come across, Sammy-"

Sam cut him off, "Exactly! So, why would you just throw it all onto her all at once! She'll run off scared and we'll be back to square one!"

Dean stood up, easing off of the wall he was leaning on, and shrugged. "She knows more about what's going on out there than any of the people we've dealt with. She can handle the truth."

"You don't know that, Dean!" Sam turned to Dean, the lamppost light casting a shadow across his face. They stared at each other for a moment, silent. A look then passed over Sam's face. "It's because she believes in God, isn't it?"

Dean stiffened. "Now, wait a second-"

Sam's boots clomped on the pavement as he walked slowly towards his brother. "It is, isn't it? She makes you feel uncomfortable because she believes in something you don't want to exist, so you want to scare her off!"

Dean met him halfway, their faces close. "Sam, she can believe in whatever she wants! God, Buddha, the Tooth Fairy, I don't care either way!" He paused, taking in a deep breath and a step back. Sam followed suit, turning away from him and running his hands through his hair. "What's got you so hung up on this chick, Sammy?"

Sam spun around. "Her name is Naomi."

Dean raised his hands in surrender. "Fine, Naomi. Why are you so bent on her?"

A moment of tension passed, then Sam's shoulders slumped as he leaned against the wall of the restaurant and slid down to the ground. He rested his elbows on his bent knees and ran his fingers through his hair again. "Dean…she's the only chance we have at cleaning up my mess. We need her. I need her."

Dean kicked at a rock on the pavement. He hated seeing Sam beat himself up over this. As angry as he was that this whole mess was going on, he hated seeing the load his brother constantly wore. Dean knew he couldn't take it away, but he could numb it, make him forget about it, even if for a little while. If that meant giving false hope, he would do it. He'd do anything.

Dean squatted next to Sam. "Look, Sammy. We'll get through this, you and me. If that means with Naomi, great. If not, then we'll figure something else out. I'm not going down without a fight, but I'm gonna need your help. I don't have a chance going solo."

Sam sighed, then lifted his head from his knees. "Yeah." He smiled softly. "You know, you wouldn't be alone. You'd have Castiel."

Dean chuckled. "Yeah, an angel who doesn't drink, do girls, or know how to take a joke. He'd be a big help."

"Did I hear someone say 'angel'?"

The two stood abruptly and turned to see Naomi, peeking her head out of the restaurant door. They looked to each other, searching for a reply.

She stepped onto the sidewalk timidly. She crossed her arms over her chest as a gust of wind blew past them. She inhaled deeply, then exhaled, meeting their eyes. "Look, there are a lot of questions I have for you two. We just met and not under the greatest of circumstances. You are a pair of mysteries that I haven't figured out yet and that should make me wary of you." She took in another breath. "Yet, I have this feeling our meeting wasn't an accident and I think you guys know that too. So, if there's something you need me for, I'll do my best to help."

The Winchesters exchanged a look, then looked back at Naomi. She stood still, waiting for them to respond. Sam took an apprehensive step forward, holdng his hand out towards her. "We still have a lot to explain to you, Naomi. You don't know what all you're signing up for yet."

She raised a hand to quiet him. "I know peace, Sam. The moment I saw you two in the church, I felt an overwhelming sense of peace I've only felt twice in my life: when I accepted Jesus into my life and when I was called to ministry. I didn't understand all that I was getting into then, but I knew I didn't need to. All I needed was a step of faith. I'm taking that step again now."

Dean smirked at Naomi despite himself, feeling his resentment towards her starting to crack. "Did you practice that while we were out here?"

She laughed nervously, wiping her hands on her jeans. "Was it that obvious?"

Sam laughed. Dean turned towards his brother, his eyebrows knitting together. He hadn't realized how long it had been since he had heard Sam laugh. For the first time since that day in the church with Ruby, Sam looked happy, free even. While Dean's first reaction was a smile, worry started to creep into the corner of his mind. Dean was not one to call the turnout of a fight before it began, but Sam, with his tendency to hope, was. Dean worried, as he looked in between his brother and their new tag along, that his brother was placing his bet on something that was as vulnerable and bound to fail as they were.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight- The Gun

They had found another motel in town and were making themselves comfortable in their rooms. The Winchesters weren't ready to let their weapon out of sight just yet, but they knew asking Naomi to stay in their room would be a bad idea. Dean still felt like he and Sam were walking on eggshells around her, trying not to scare her from helping them end the apocalypse. Strangely enough, one of those eggshells they were avoiding was explaining that she was the key to ending the apocalypse.

Sam went out to grab some food for the next few days. They didn't know how long it would be until Castiel would tell them the next step of the plan, so they decided to prepare for a wait. Dean and Naomi stayed behind at the motel room to unpack. Dean never unloaded much from the car, so he began checking their weapons as Naomi entered the room, toting a single suitcase and backpack. Dean glanced up from the shotgun he was cleaning, taking note of her luggage. "You travel light for a girl."

Naomi smiled at him as she hefted the backpack onto the bed. "I try to. As much as I travel, I can't really afford to pay for lots of luggage every time I fly."

He stopped scrubbing the barrel with the cleaning cloth. "You flew here? What about your car?"

She unzipped her backpack, rifling through it. "It's a rental I got from the airport. Between insurance and maintenance, my ministry doesn't really support the money necessary to keep a car."

As Dean took a closer look, he noticed the old airport tags attached to different parts of her suitcase. Several were faded and shredded to a point of being indecipherable. He would have let the matter go, but his curiosity got the better of him. "Where all have you been?"

Naomi paused from unpacking, meeting Dean's eyes. He felt the corner of his mouth twitch at the sight of the spark in her eyes. Her love for what she did was evident in the way her smile slowly spread across her face. He could tell she had had adventures, exploring as she made her way across the States. Dean had missed out on the tourism aspect of traveling over the years. When they visited a new place, the focus was always to get the job done, then move on to the next small town in trouble. There were very few times he could ever recall doing his own exploring beyond a case.

She suddenly jumped onto the bed Dean was sitting on and scooted close to him. "Where do you want to hear about first? I once exorcised seven demons out of a teenage boy in New Orleans. Best birthday present I've ever gotten. I also gave a woman CPR by Mount Rushmore after she had collapsed after hiking for a few hours."

Dean found himself leaning in close, her excitement magnetizing him, drawing him closer. "Definitely giving a woman CPR. I wouldn't expect you to be so dirty as to put your mouth on another woman's, Mother Teresa." He winked at her.

She gasped and shoved him playfully away. "I was saving her life! Get your head out of the sewer!"

He smirked. "I think the expression you're thinking of is 'get your mind out of the gutter'."

She smirked. "I think the expression I'm thinking of is not appropriate to say out loud."

Dean found himself grinning. She smelled like vanilla, but it was so faint that Dean had to lean even closer to smell it again. "You know, after all the demons you've come across, I'd think you'd be more equipped with better comebacks than that."

She laughed so loud, Dean didn't hear the key turning the lock on the door. Sam opened the door, carrying several plastic bags in each hand. The pair turned towards him and Dean watched a look cross over Sam's face, disappearing as quickly as it came.

Sam looked between the two as he closed the door behind him. "Did I miss something?"

Naomi wiped at her eyes as she climbed off the bed. "No, no. Dean was just being snarky."

Sam turned to his brother, his voice subtly quieter. "Yeah, he does that."

Naomi walked towards Sam and took a few of the bags from him. "Here, let me help you with these." A smile returned to Sam's face as he obliged. "Thank you."

Dean watched Naomi and Sam crouched by the mini-fridge, sorting through the groceries and placing them where they belonged. He noticed how they didn't have to talk much as they slowly put the groceries away. They seemed to be in sync, knowing what went where, passing beer bottles and cracker boxes back and forth. A flash of an image of them doing the same in the kitchen of a house with toys strewn across a hardwood floor passed through Dean's head. He scowled down at the shotgun he had abandoned and began scrubbing at it, not noticing how hard he was rubbing.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine- The Game

**Happy Valentine's Day! Here's a little treat to show you some love: two for one posting! Enjoy and please leave feedback!**

The group had spent the evening apart, each making themselves busy. Dean had called Cas, but had to leave a message telling the angel where they were. He hoped he wouldn't be too long. Sam seemed charged, ready to get started on ending the apocalypse. Dean had to admit that he felt in better spirits too. The thought of ending this thing seemed a little closer and a little more real.

It was drawing close to midnight when Dean felt his eyes starting to get heavy. He had had his first shower in days and after getting dressed into some clean clothes, he started to feel just how tired he was. He was about to stand to go check on Naomi and say goodnight when there was a soft knock at the door.

Sam and Dean both stood to go answer the door, but after a quick look to each other, Sam was the one to turn the lock and open the door. Dean was trying to understand the exchange when he heard Naomi whisper, "Hey. I didn't wake you, did I?"

Sam shook his head. "Nope. We're night owls."

She stepped around him, smiling up at him. "That doesn't surprise me much."

Dean felt his heart jump for a moment. Naomi's hair was dark auburn, wet from taking a shower, up in a braid that was long enough to fall over her shoulder. She wore flannel pajama pants with an AC/DC T-shirt on. She was wearing thin-rimmed glasses that had begun to slide down her nose. She pushed them back up as her eyes met Dean's. She smiled as she held up a deck of cards and Ziploc bag full of black and red chips. "Want to get your butt kicked at poker?"

Dean laughed. "I know you've known us for less than 24 hours, but it shouldn't really be that big of a surprise to you that I don't get anything kicked when it comes to poker."

Sam closed the door and stood beside Naomi. "We've played our share of poker, Naomi. I don't think you stand a chance."

Naomi glanced between them and swung the bag tantalizingly. "Then you'll have nothing to lose, right?"

Wrong. Out of the three games of poker they played, Naomi had won every one by a landslide. As they laid down their cards for the last game, Dean groaned when he saw Naomi had swept them away again. She pumped her fists in the air and said, "Well boys, it was pleasure doing business with you" as she scooped up her winnings.

Sam silently shook his head at her as Dean gestured towards her hand. "That's not even fair. You bluffed the last five rounds!"

Naomi smirked as she nonchalantly shrugged her shoulders. "It's not my fault that I have a convincing poker face…and that I can read your tells."

Sam and Dean exchanged a look, then looked back at her. They said simultaneously, "We don't have tells."

Naomi laughed as she stood. "Oh. Yes, you do."

Sam cleaned up the cards and chips as Dean stood. He gave her a look over, scrutinizing her. He asked, "Did you cheat?"

Naomi held a hand to her heart in mock surprise. "Oh, of course. The _only_ way I could have won is because I _cheated_. You caught me, Dean."

He rolled his eyes. "You had to have done something. You're way too…nice to have that good of poker face."

Naomi's head slightly cocked to the side as she smiled. "Thank you…I think."

Sam stood and handed the cards and bag of chips to Naomi. "Or to be that good of a liar."

Naomi smiled and shrugged. "I like to surprise people." A moment passed between the three of them before Naomi broke it. "Well, good night!" She turned and headed for the door.

The boys called after her in unison, "Goodnight."

She tossed over her shoulder before closing the door behind her. "Sleep tight! Dream good dreams tonight!"

Sam and Dean watched the door silently for a moment before they turned towards each other. Sam smiled at him. "What do you think?"

Dean felt his eyes widen. "Of what?"

Sam fell back onto his bed, resting his arms behind his head. "Of Naomi, Dean. What do you think about her?"

Dean felt his face get warm and walked to his own bed to hide it from Sam. He didn't know why he was blushing or why didn't want Sam to see. "I don't know. What am I supposed to think?"

Sam sat on his bed. "I just thought she'd be more…"

"Deadly?"

Sam shrugged. "I don't know. She said she likes to surprise people. Maybe there really is more to her than we think."

Dean pulled back the sheets on his bed and yanked his jeans off. "Well, I think she's got a long way to go before she gets to apocalypse-stopping level, Sammy. Don't get your hopes up." He didn't like the tone Sam had when he talked about her.

"Dean-"

Dean grabbed the sheets and roughly drew them over him, turning his back to his brother. "Just go to sleep, Sam."

Dean waited until Sam turned off the light before releasing a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. He didn't understand why he was in such a bad mood. He had felt fine when he was losing at poker to Naomi minutes ago. He rubbed his eyes and settled in the bed, not realizing how drained he was. His head and his eyes felt heavy.

_I'm just tired. It's been a long day. Sam needs to get that…and get over Naomi. She isn't that special. She's normal. She's…_


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten- The Visitor

"Dean! Dean, wake up!"

Dean felt someone gripping his shoulders, shaking him awake. He grabbed the shirt of the intruder and flipped them onto the bed, gun out from under his pillow and pointed at the stranger's head. Dean blinked a few times, then saw familiar green eyes staring up at him. He growled, as he released him, "Sam, I could have-"

"Dean, it's Naomi. Something is wrong with her."

Dean immediately swung himself out of the bed, hugging the gun to his body. He bolted out of the room and pounded on the door of Naomi's room next to theirs. He tried to turn the doorknob only to find it was locked. Dean yanked on it furiously, spurred by the groaning he heard inside the room. His heart felt like it was ramming against his chest, each beat growing faster and heavier. He swore, beating on the door harder.

Sam yelled behind Dean, "Naomi! Naomi, are you okay?" No reply, but the groaning grew louder.

_Screw this._ Dean leaned back and kicked down the door, the lock and chain breaking easily. He and Sam burst through the doorway, both searching for Naomi.

They found her twisted in her covers, thrashing and kicking in her sleep. Dean could see from where he stood that her hair, now down from the braid, was sticking to her face and neck. The moonlight poking through the thin curtains showed her skin and pajamas soaked with sweat.

Sam shoved past Dean and clasped Naomi's shoulders to wake her. Suddenly, she began to scream, her arms flailing and clawing at Sam. Sam pushed her down, only causing her to scream louder and struggle harder. He opened his mouth to speak, but her elbow caught him in the nose. He reeled back, blood instantly flooding out of his nose and onto the floor.

Dean jumped into action, sprinting towards the bed and vaulting onto it. He dodged her arms and legs as best he could as he straddled her. Catching each of her wrists and pressing them into the bed, he yelled over her wails, "Naomi! Wake up!" When she didn't wake, he leaned in closer and roared, "Naomi!"

Naomi's eyes flew open and frantically searched the room. She shouted breathlessly, "Where is it? Where is it?" She fought against him, but Dean kept a firm grip on her.

Not letting his eyes stray away from her, Dean asked, "Is it still here?"

Naomi's breath was heaving and she was still squirming under him, trying to see around him. "Where is it? It was here, I swear! Where is it?"

Dean kept his eyes trained on her. He struggled to calm his voice enough to say quietly, "Naomi." Her eyes found his instantaneously. He asked, his voice slow and deep, "Is it still here? Answer the question."

She stared at him, mouth slightly open. Dean noticed the fall and rise of her body under him starting to slow down. After a moment, her body relaxed as she shook her head. "No…no, it's gone. I can't feel it anymore."

Dean sat still, their eyes locked. The moonlight hit her eyes at just the right angle to make them seem see-through, like crystal. Her dilated pupils seemed to enhance how mesmerizing of a blue her eyes were. Dean had only seen a blue that clear when they were doing a job on the coast. The view was beautiful.

Sam grabbed Dean's shoulder and wrenched him backwards, shouting, "Get off of her, Dean!"

Dean awoke from his thoughts, then shoved Sam's bloody hand off of him. He yelled, "What's your _problem_, Sam?"

Sam glared at him as he leaned down next to Naomi, now sitting up and searching the room.

Dean heard a noise behind him and spun around to see a crowd gathered outside the door. He glanced at Naomi, then Sam. _He'll make sure she's okay._ He turned and walked over to the group.

A man with a long, unkept beard stood in front of the group, wrapped in a plush robe. Dean recognized him as the manager. "Everything okay?"

Dean leaned casually against the doorway, blocking their view of Naomi. The last thing she needed was an audience. "Yeah. She had a nightmare."

A voice in the crowd retorted, "Pretty intense nightmare."

Dean turned towards the voice, finding a man staring at him. Dean took note of him, then of the scantily dressed woman wrapped around him. Of what little clothes she had on, they appeared to have been put on in a rush. Dean smiled to himself. _Somebody was having a fun night._ She gave Dean a once-over, then shot him a sultry wink at him while twisting a strand of obnoxiously blonde hair around her finger. He said to the man, "Yeah. They're called night terrors, genius."

He glanced at the manager. "Really. Everything is fine. Go back to sleep." Looking towards the couple, he added, "Or whatever else we interrupted." The man glanced at his date, then nervously back at Dean, tucking his left hand behind his back.

The crowd slowly dispersed, the manager taking his time. He attempted one last peek at Naomi around Dean before eyeing the broken door as he walked away. "I'll be adding that to your bill."

Dean nodded curtly, ready to agree to anything if it made him leave. "Fair enough".

Dean waited until he heard the last door close before he walked back into the room.

Closing the door to the best of his abilities, he took in the scene in front of him. His gun was lying on the ground, not realizing until now that he had dropped it. As he picked it up, he noticed the trail of blood snaking over the ugly off-white carpet, leading to the bed. They had made a mess, classic Winchester style.

Crouched down, he raised his head to check on Naomi. Sam had wrapped a blanket around her and was gently rubbing her far shoulder as she leaned against him. She was staring blankly at the ground, silent tears running down her face. Sam was whispering something into her hair, but Dean couldn't make it out.

Standing, Dean asked as he checked the safety on his gun, "What did you see?"

Sam glared up at him and whispered, "Dean, now isn't the time."

Dean tightened his jaw. Sam's attitude was getting old really fast. He replied, with what was left of his patience, "Sam, something found her and if we don't know what it is, we can't protect her from it. So, yeah, now _is_ the time."

Sam worked his jaw for a moment, not meeting Dean's eyes. He turned back to Naomi, rubbing her shoulder as he asked, "Is there anything you could tell us about what happened?"

Dean resisted the urge to lean over and push her hair out of her face and instead, chose to stand in front of her, arms crossed. He added, "From the beginning would be nice."

Naomi looked to Sam, who nodded encouragingly. She looked up at Dean and said, "It almost felt like I had woken up. I knew I was still asleep, but I could tell it was all real. Almost like an out-of-body experience, I guess."

She glanced at Sam, looking for assurance that she wasn't crazy. He nodded. "Okay, that's good. Anything else?"

She turned back to Dean. "There was someone…something in the room. I could feel it there with me…and that it knew I was awake."

She shuddered, wrapping the blanket tighter around her. She nodded towards the corner behind Dean. "It was over there, by the door."

Sam asked, "Could you see what it looked like? Was it transparent, like a ghost?"

Naomi shook her head, still staring at the corner. "No, I couldn't see anything. There wasn't anything there. It looked like there was a shadow, but it had sucked out all the light. I haven't seen anything like it before." She shuddered again. "The…energy it gave off was overwhelming. It radiated fear, raw fear, that didn't even belong to me."

Dean couldn't think of a single thing that sounded like what she was describing. That made him nervous. He asked, "Did it speak to you?"

Naomi woke from her thoughts. "No. Not a word."

He nodded. "Okay. What happened next?"

"It began walking closer to me when I told it to go away and that it wasn't welcome here." She blinked, fresh tears sliding down her cheeks, which she furiously wiped away. "I then felt a weight on my chest. I couldn't breathe." She closed her eyes, her chin trembling. "I could feel it standing above me. I couldn't move, couldn't speak." She shook her head as she opened her eyes. "I just started praying, asking God for help. I felt like I was going to pass out, but I just kept asking for His help. That's when you woke me up." She looked to Dean, giving him a small, tight-lipped smile.

Dean shrugged off a shudder and looked at his shoes. Sam squeezed her shoulder. "That was really helpful. Thank you."

She switched her gaze between the two brothers. "Do you think I could…stay in your room tonight?"

Naomi and Sam both looked to Dean for an answer. An image of Naomi curled up next to Sam in his bed flashed for a moment and a knot twisted in the pit of his stomach. He nodded curtly before walking out of the room.

Dean snatched a pillow off of his bed and threw it on the floor by its foot. _This Twilight Zone stuff needs to give it a rest. _He paced back and forth a few times, trying to clear his head. Remembering the feel of Naomi's body under him, her blue eyes focused on his, wasn't helping. He shuddered as a shiver shot through his spine.

Hearing shuffling behind him, he stilled and turned to see Naomi walk into the room with Sam's hand floating above the small of her back. Dean nodded towards his bed. "You can sleep in that one."

Naomi tugged the blanket still around her as she glanced at the bed. She looked back at Dean, giving him a small smile. "Thank you."

Dean turned to Sam, seeing how his eyes hadn't left Naomi since entering the room. He said flatly, "You might want to clean yourself up."

Naomi followed Dean's gaze, her eyes widening as she noticed for the first time the smeared blood around Sam's nose and mouth, along with the stains down the front of his shirt. She gasped, her hand tentatively brushing his nose, "Oh my gosh! Did I do that?"

Sam smiled at her as he rubbed at the blood under his nose. "You've got some weight behind that arm of yours."

Naomi gave him a half-hearted smile. "I'm so sorry. Here, let me help."

She let the blanket fall off her shoulders as she went into the bathroom, returning a moment later with a wet paper towel. Sam reached for it, but she retracted her hand. "Let me do it, Sam." She nodded towards the bed. "Sit."

Dean watched Sam's smile spread across his face, as he obliged, his back to Dean. Naomi gently dabbed at the blood on Sam, her eyebrows knitting together in concentration. Dean smiled unknowingly as she bit her lip as she worked on a spot around Sam's chin.

After a few minutes, she leaned back and proudly placed her hands on her hips. "There. All clean."

Sam stood, taking inventory of his shirt. "My face is, at least. This shirt is probably going to have to go."

She shrugged. "It happens."

Sam walked into the bathroom to change, leaving Naomi and Dean alone. Naomi turned towards him, then blushed, quickly looking away. Dean cocked his head. "What?"

She smiled to herself, mumbling to her hand as she picked at a nail, "You're not wearing pants, Dean."

Dean closed his eyes and sighed, for the first time noticing how cool his legs were. In the chaos, he'd forgotten he'd gone to bed in only a shirt and boxer briefs. _So that's what that chick was all smiles about_. He stood and smiled slyly at Naomi. "You noticed."

She grinned at her nails. "Yeah. Kind of hard not to."

He smirked, walking slowly closer to her until he stood close enough to smell her vanilla perfume again. "Is that so?"

She made a point of looking him only in the eye, struggling to force a smile off her face. "Dean, get your mind out of the sewer and put some pants on."

He chuckled. "That still isn't the right expression."

She huffed in response, "Just cover yourself, Winchester."

Dean grabbed the pair of jeans he had ditched yesterday. He stayed close to her, taking his time as he inched each pant leg up one at a time. He grinned at her, enjoying the smile that played at her lips as she took inventory of everything in the room, save for him. Despite the tear tracks that still shone on her cheeks, her face seemed to glow.

Once he had the jeans buttoned, he zipped them, dragging out each second. When he was done, he said, "All right, Mother Teresa. I'm decent."

She rolled her eyes at him. "You had _way_ too much fun with that."

He shrugged and winked. "It happens."

Naomi shook her head at him as Sam stepped back into the room. He wore the same style shirt, only now instead of baby blue, it was forest green. He stood in the doorway for a second, noticing the smiles both Naomi and his brother wore. Walking over to stand beside her, he gestured to the jeans and asked Dean, "Were you wearing those a minute ago?"

Naomi snorted, covering her mouth with her hand. Dean smiled at him. "Yeah. You didn't notice?"

Sam stared confusedly at Naomi, switching his gaze between Naomi and Dean. "What? What's so funny?"

Naomi struggled to not laugh as she said, "Oh, nothing. Nothing at all."

Sam looked to Dean, waiting for him to comment. Dean shrugged. "Don't look at me. I didn't do anything."

Sam was about to reply, when a yawn stopped him. Naomi fought the yawn she was trying to suppress as she said, "I think it's time for us all to go to bed."

Dean commented to his brother, "I'll take first watch." Sam nodded through his yawn.

Naomi turned towards him, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Dean. Go to bed."

"That thing could come back."

"If it does, you guys are here." She gestured between him and Sam.

He replied, "You might sleep better knowing someone is keeping an eye out."

"I'm really okay. We are all due for some sleep." Her blue eyes blinked up at him. "Please, Dean."

Dean tightened his jaw, wanting to protest. After a moment of her blue eyes staring him down, he gave in. "Fine."

They all climbed into their sleeping areas. Dean punched his pillow a few times before lying down. He had closed his eyes for only a moment when he felt something warm wrap around him. He opened them to see Naomi tucking the blanket she had been using around his shoulders. She whispered, "Get some sleep" before she climbed into her bed.

Dean didn't notice he was smiling as the smell of vanilla lulled him to sleep.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven- The Plan

Dean woke, sitting up abruptly. Something had woken him up.

He held his breath as he listened, but everything was quiet. Just as he was about to lie back down, he heard it again. A quick thump knocked on the wall, then was silent. The hair on the back of Dean's neck stood, prickling his skin. He turned towards the source, facing the bedroom door. Slowly pulling his gun out from under his pillow, he kicked the blanket off of him as he stood.

He crept silently, dodging bags and shoes as he sneaked up to the door. He heard the noise again, louder this time. He wished the door had a peephole, but even that was a luxury for this place.

He grasped the doorknob and breathed out slowly. _One…two…three! _He yanked open the door and almost dropped his gun as his breath got knocked out of him.

Naomi was pressed against the wall across the hall, her legs wrapped around the torso of the stranger she was making out with. Her fingers were deep in his hair, pulling him closer. The stranger had one hand pressed against the wall, supporting himself, while the other was wrapped under Naomi. Dean recognized the forest green shirt the stranger wore.

He yelled, "SAM!"

Naomi broke the kiss and peered over Sam's shoulder, breathing heavily. She sighed disappointedly as she stared at Dean, unimpressed with the shocked expression he wore. His heart sank as he leaned against the doorway. _It would happen sooner or later_. _They were perfect for each other_. He had just thought…wished…

Naomi slowly unwrapped her legs as Sam dropped her gently to the floor. His strong shoulders sunk as he sighed. Sam's back was still to his brother as he shook his head. "Dean."

"W-what are you doing, man?"

"I'm just taking what's yours…or rather, mine now." He turned around and Dean raised his gun to his brother's head. Sam blinked yellow eyes back at Dean as he slid an arm around Naomi's waist, tugging her closer. She smiled slyly up at Sam, then at Dean. Sam grinned smugly.

Dean blinked hard as he shook his head, trying to erase the image in front of him. His voice shook slightly as he gripped his gun tighter. "You're dead. I killed you myself."

"Ah, Dean. Don't you get it?" Sam released Naomi and slinked slowly towards Dean. "You can't escape your fears. Not when they live in…" He flicked Dean's forehead. "…here."

Dean gasped awake. He clutched at his chest and gulped for air. Wildly searching the room, he found Sam sleeping soundly in his bed, snoring quietly. Dean took in a deep breath. It had been a dream.

A glance at the window told Dean that the sun hadn't risen yet. Knowing going back to sleep wasn't an option anymore, Dean quietly stood. Deciding to change into some fresh clothes, he made his way to his duffel. After grabbing whatever was on top, he glanced over to Naomi's bed to make sure she was still sleeping. The bed was empty.

Dean swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat and felt it sink into his stomach. _Get a grip, Dean. She could just be hitting the head. _He leaned to get a view of the bathroom, finding it empty. He yanked on his fresh clothes, deciding to do a quick search around the motel before waking Sam. He stuffed one of the handguns in the back of his pants before opening the door. He stuck his head out the door and stopped in his tracks.

Naomi was across the hall again, only this time she was sitting cross-legged on the floor, scribbling in a notebook with an open book in her lap. Dean swallowed the bitter taste the fresh dream left in his mouth. Checking to make sure no one was in the hallway, he said, "You're up early."

Naomi started, pressing a hand to her chest. When her eyes found Dean, she released her breath and smiled. "Couldn't sleep."

Dean glanced behind him, making sure Sam was still asleep, as he quietly shut the door behind him. Dean nodded at the book in Naomi's lap. "So, you came out here…to read?"

She held it up. "Every day." It was a Bible.

Dean suddenly wished he had stayed in the room. He stood against the door, gesturing to the Bible, "Well, uh, I don't want to interrupt."

Naomi smiled knowingly at him. "You wouldn't be interrupting."

He reached an arm behind his head to rub his neck. The hallway had become warm very quickly. "Well, it looked like I was."

She patted the floor beside her. "Sit down, Dean. I'm not going to bite."

He worked his jaw, debating on whether to duck out or stay. He met her blue eyes, sparkling up at him. He caved. As he crouched down beside her, he peered at her notebook. He'd never heard of people reading the Bible and writing too. _As if reading it wasn't hard enough._

"Taking notes?"

Naomi smiled, closing her notebook and stroking the cover. "After I read a passage, I write down how it made me feel, how I can apply it to my life now, any questions I have, stuff like that. That way, I don't forget what I got out of it."

Dean chuckled. "Mother Teresa has questions?"

Naomi grinned at him. "Is that nickname _really_ going to stick?"

He smiled back, nodding at her Bible. "If you keep reading that, it will."

Naomi shrugged, looking down at her Bible. A small smile crept onto her lips, as if she was withholding a secret. "Then, Mother Teresa it is." She looked up at him. "And yes."

Dean cocked his head. "Yes what?"

"Yes, I do have questions. Sometimes, I get answers and other times, I don't. Personally, I think it's better that way. Leaves me with something to contemplate." She hugged her Bible to herself as she looked away. "One of those questions is what that thing was last night. Got an answer for that?"

Dean noticed Naomi's white knuckles as she clutched onto her Bible. She was more afraid than she was letting on. He felt his hand instinctively reach for hers, but quickly retracted it before she noticed. "Not really…yet. When me and Sam don't know something, we do our own reading." He leaned forward. "Sam hits the books while I sit back and look good." He winked.

Naomi gave a small laugh before rolling her eyes. "Right. Can't say I'm too surprised."

Dean grinned, liking how he could bring a smile back to her face. "That I'm the hot, older brother?"

She shoved at him. "That you're the one who doesn't do any work."

He rubbed at the placed where her hand had been. "I didn't say I didn't do any work! He's just better at all the book stuff."

Naomi tilted her head inquisitively. "How so?"

Dean shrugged, leaning his head back against the wall. "I don't know. Sam is really smart. He went to college for a while, Stanford of all places." He looked at her. "I was lucky to get my GED."

Naomi smiled. "I didn't go to college either, you know."

Dean's eyes widened. "Really? Could have fooled me. You're so-"

"Smart? School doesn't define your success in life, Dean. Sure, I had planned to go to college, but the summer before my first semester, I felt like I was supposed to be in the mission field immediately. So, school was out of the picture." She shrugged nonchalantly. "I consider my life successful."

Dean thought about how much Sam had wanted to go back to school when they had started hunting together again. He could imagine Naomi feeling the same way "Do you ever regret it? Not going to college?"

Naomi smiled up at the ceiling. "No. I had some lessons to learn that I probably wouldn't have gotten if I had gone to school. The biggest one was that God would supply me with what I needed. Clothes, a place to sleep, income, places to speak at, you name it. He hasn't failed me since."

Dean nodded, rubbing at his five o'clock shadow. "Right. So, you didn't have _anything_ to do with all that?"

Naomi's brows knit together in thought. "I think God used what He created in me to do His will. Looking back, there were a lot of doors opened for me I wouldn't have touched if I was the one calling the shots. I know I couldn't have gotten to where I am now without some outside help." She tilted her head to meet his eyes. "I get the feeling you and God aren't on the best of terms."

Dean smiled sadly at her. _She has no idea._ "You could say that. My thinking is that if there really is a God, I'm not interested in what He's selling."

Naomi smiled gently at him. "What do you think He's marketing?"

Dean paused for a moment. He never really had been asked that before. Considering he hung out with a religious brother and an angel, he found the realization hilarious. "Everyone says that He loves us, but if that's so, He's got a weird definition of love. If you love someone, you don't just sit back and watch them suffer without doing anything about it. What kind of god lets bad things happen to good people?" An image of Ellen and Jo flashed through Dean's head and he had to bite his lip to fight back the tears that started to form.

Naomi sighed, leaning her head back against the wall. "You aren't the first person to ask the question and I doubt you'll be the last." She turned toward him. "No matter how much 'good' we do or how many things we do right…" She held up her Bible "…this says that messing up once qualifies us as bad people."

She cracked the book open to where a ribbon marked. "In Romans 6:23 says that 'the wages of sin is death, but the free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord'. What that means is what we deserve is what we're going to get. However, another option is on the table too and it is absolutely free to receive instead." She smiled up at Dean. "I don't know about you, but in my limited experience in love, giving gifts freely was a common occurrence."

Dean stared at her, silent. After a moment, he opened his mouth to speak when the bedroom door swung open, Sam in the doorway.

Dean felt the need to explain himself. "Sam, we were just-"

"We have a visitor, Dean. " He pointedly stared at him. "He needs to talk to us." He glanced at Naomi. "All of us."

Dean got the hint. "Oh. Okay." He stood and helped Naomi to her feet. She hugged her Bible to her chest tightly, hesitantly peeking around Sam. "No one came into the room while I was out here, guys. How could there be someone in there?"

The brothers looked at each other, searching for the right words. Sam looked at her and said, "He has a way of going unnoticed."

Naomi squinted warily at them. Dean led her, a hand on the small of her back. "You'll see."

She stopped in the doorway before she went inside, looking up at Dean. She whispered, "Just because you aren't perfect doesn't mean God doesn't care about you, Dean." A look passed between them for a moment before she stepping inside the room. Dean silently followed.

The trio filed into the room, one after the other. Dean saw Castiel standing in the center of the room and opened his mouth to greet him when he noticed Castiel staring straight at Naomi. She stopped abruptly in front of Dean the moment she met Castiel's eyes and collapsed onto the floor.

Dean stepped back as Sam knelt down next to her, putting a hand on her back. "Are you okay? What's wrong?"

Naomi was on her hands and knees, staring at the floor. Her breath shuttered as she whispered, "Can't you feel that? His presence…it's…" Tears fell onto the rug.

Sam glared up at Castiel, yelling, "What are you doing to her? Leave her alone!"

Castiel slowly moved towards her, causing both Sam and Dean to stiffen. When he stood above her, he crouched down and whispered, "Don't be afraid." He looked up at the brothers and gave them a small smile. Dean and Sam exchanged a look. Cas never smiled. Ever.

"You found her."

Dean replied, "Well, after ganking the demon that beat us there. We didn't know we'd be receiving a welcome party."

Castiel looked back down at Naomi. "Please stand."

Naomi shakily stood, clutching onto Sam as he helped support her. She stared at the floor, avoiding Castiel's gaze.

Dean asked, his eyes on Naomi. "What did you do to her?"

Castiel replied flatly, his eyes not leaving her, "She is sensitive to Heaven's power. She hasn't dealt with such a high dosage before. She'll recover."

Dean retorted sarcastically, "Fabulous. Got any other surprises, Cas?"

Castiel broke his stare with Naomi and switched to Dean. "I have heard the angels speak of her again. She has a bounty on her head."

Sam spoke up. "What? Why?"

"One of Lucifer's generals, Sheol, intends to possess her. He knows she's valuable to us and wants to keep her close. The angels would like to avoid that from happening."

Naomi interjected, fear causing her voice to squeak, "W-what are you talking about? What do you mean I'm valuable?"

Castiel's voice softened. "Your Glory is precious."

Dean said, "Come again? What Glory?"

Castiel sighed. "The Glory she has has multiple uses, one of those being that she has the power to exorcise demons. It is precious." Catching her eye, he leaned in, his head tilted slightly. "What are you?"

Naomi glanced at Dean before looking back at Castiel, her eyes wide. "I'm human. Are there other options?"

Castiel replied solemnly, "Several."

He continued to stare at her, evaluating her. She struggled to hold his gaze, switching between him and her shoes. After a few moments, Dean interrupted. "Cas, give her some space."

Castiel stood abruptly. "I don't understand how she obtained Glory. It is a gift. It can only be given."

Dean stared at Naomi. "Well, someone must have given it to her then."

"You don't understand. There is only one who can give Glory."

Sam interjected, "Who? An archangel?"

"God."

The room fell silent. Naomi glanced between the three men. "Yeah. So?"

Castiel opened his mouth to reply, but Sam hurriedly asked, "When did you receive your…um, Glory?" He and Dean exchanged a look. Dean gave a slight nod of gratitude. Now wasn't the time to explain to Naomi how God was taking a vacation.

Naomi replied, looking up at Sam, "The night I was called into ministry."

"How long ago was that?"

"Seven years. I was eighteen."

"Did anything unusual happen?"

Naomi smiled. "If you count me being prophesied over as unusual."

Dean turned to Castiel for an explanation. "Prophesied?"

Castiel met his eyes. "The truth being spoken over an individual. It usually includes a glimpse of the divine plan for their life." Castiel looked to Naomi. "What was spoken over you?"

Naomi closed her eyes, recalling the memory. "That I would do great things for the kingdom. I would receive power to bring light into dark places. God would use my compassion for others to soften hearts and bring glory to His name. I would be a world-changer." She opened her eyes tiredly. "I think that was it."

Castiel looked to Dean. "I have questions that need to be answered. Protect her at all costs."

Sam held up a hand. "Hold on. You told us you had a plan."

"It has changed. I did not expect the weapon to be a woman."

Sam stiffened. "Well, we didn't either, but we can't just wait around here! We need to do something! We don't have much time!"

Castiel looked to Dean. "Keep her away from anything not human. I will contact you when I have answers."

Sam yelled as he walked over to Castiel, leaving Naomi leaning heavily against the wall, "Cas! Wait!"

The angel vanished.

Sam stood still for a moment, then swore loudly as punched the bedroom wall. His fist broke through the dry wall.

Dean yelled as he grabbed his brother's shoulders, "Hey! Sammy! Pull it together!"

Sam growled, "How can he expect us to just sit here and do nothing while people _die_ out there?" He gestured to the window.

Dean replied, gripping Sam's shirtsleeves. "When he gets back, we'll get this apocalypse-ending show on the road. Until then, we have to wait, Sam." He released his brother, looking at Naomi. She had sunken to the floor and was staring wide-eyed at the brothers. "Besides, we are doing something. We're protecting her."

Sam stared at Naomi for a moment before dodging Dean and grabbing his coat. He mumbled, "I'm going outside" as he closed the door behind him.

Naomi stared up at Dean, her eyes pleading for answers to a hundred questions. Dean, in reply, snatched his leather jacket and followed Sam out of the room. _Now isn't the time for Twenty Questions._

Dean found his brother pacing by the Impala, hands on his hips. He said nonchalantly, "Hey. What's up?"

Sam ran his fingers through his hair as he faced his brother. "Dean, I…I just need to be alone."

Dean leaned up against the side of the Impala. "Actually, you need to explain. Why are you stressed out over this, Sam? We weren't getting anywhere before Naomi. Why the rush now?"

Sam let his arms fall to his side. "I…I think Naomi's losing her Glory, Dean."

Dean stood up off of the car. "Whoa, hold up. Why would you say that?"

Sam stepped closer to his brother. "I was thinking about all of last night, Dean. Naomi said she has had this power since she was eighteen. She knows her way around it. So, why did she not get rid of whatever was in her room last night?"

Dean paused. He hadn't considered that. "She was probably just scared. Maybe she froze because it got a jump on her."

Sam shook his head. "She's been using that power for seven years, Dean. She never had a chance to get scared before last night."

Dean shrugged. "Maybe it wasn't something her Heaven mojo could kick. Could have been a spirit."

"I doubt her Glory picks and chooses, Dean. Just face it. She's losing her power and if we don't do something with it soon before it's gone, we're back to square one!"

Dean watched his brother begin to pace again. Dean knew trusting in Naomi's power completely wasn't smart, but Sam didn't need reminding. What he needed was proof.

Sam stopped again and Dean watched one of Sam's "looks" cross his face. Sam had many and Dean had learned to recognize all of them over the years. This particular look was the one Sam wore when he came up with an idea he knew Dean wouldn't like.

Sam looked over Dean's shoulder at the motel, then back at Dean. Dean raised his hands, warding off Sam's idea, "Sam, whatever you're about to say, no."

Sam stepped closer, his voice rising in excitement, "What if we could see if Naomi really is losing her Glory?"

Dean stepped back. "Sam, c'mon. You're psyching yourself out about this."

Sam opened his arms in invitation. "What if I'm not, Dean? What if Naomi is losing her powers and we're losing our chance at stopping the apocalypse?"

Dean put his hand on his hips. He always did that when he got onto Sam growing up. It had formed into a habit and continued on into adulthood. "If there is anything to worry about, Cas will know what to do."

Sam gestured to the sky, his voice calming. He always did that when he knew he was close to convincing his brother. "Cas could be days, weeks even. We might not have that long."

Dean crossed his arms, staring at his boots. He hated when Sam would argue a good point. He always played every card and played them in the way he knew would get results. The puppy-eyes didn't hurt either.

Dean sighed, "What do you have in mind?"

Sam smiled. "We find ourselves a demon."


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve- The Test

Dean followed his brother back to the motel. Sam was on the phone with Bobby, asking for the nearest location with signs of demon activity. Dean imagined Bobby typing away on his computer, scowling at the screen as the news blared in the background. The image made him smile to himself.

After a minute of silence, Dean could hear the croak of Bobby's voice crackle on the other end. It must have been a solid enough lead to sell Sam because he quickly thanked Bobby and hung up. He turned around to Dean and said, a smile on his face, "We got an address."

"Any omens?"

"Just your run-of-the-mill severe thunderstorms brewing…" Sam smiled slyly over his shoulder. "…which are oddly enough solely within our town limits."

As if on cue, thunder rumbled above their heads. Dean stared up at the quickly darkening sky, then back at his brother. Normally, the words would have charged Dean with adrenaline and maybe even some curiousity, but now, all he felt was dread.

Dean knew that when Sam was set on something, there was nothing anyone could do to talk him out of it, even Dean. Sam had had a lot of ideas in the past and more often than not, Dean entertained the idea, partly as a big brother and also because he wasn't one to back down from a challenge. Recently though, it seemed Sam tended to lean towards making the wrong decisions and Dean couldn't help but wonder if the sick feeling that washed over him indicated that this decision was just following the pattern.

The brothers entered the motel room to find Naomi sitting rigidly on the edge of her bed, staring at the floor. When she heard them walk in, she stood up abruptly and stared at them. Her face had more color to it, an additional flash of red appearing on her cheeks as she said hoarsely, "You're back. I thought you both had left..." She didn't need to add the last part for Dean to finish it in his head. _"…me."_

_ She thought we had abandoned her._

Dean felt like he had swallowed a rock. Naomi's eyes were wide with confusion and fear. He stepped forward, wanting to console her, wishing he had stayed with her instead of following Sam out the door. His uneasiness about Sam's plan tripled and he now wished he had stood his ground. He stepped back though as Sam walked over to her.

Sam placed his hands on her shoulders, looking down at her. "I'm sorry if I scared you earlier. I let my emotions get away from me sometimes, but that doesn't mean I have an excuse for acting that way. Think you can forgive me?" He tilted his head to meet her eyes, giving her the puppy-eyed look, paired with a playful smile.

Naomi stared up at him for a moment before giving him a small smile back. "Yeah. I could punch a few holes in the wall myself, you know."

Sam smiled down at her. "No offense, but you don't look like you're in a state to be demolishing dry wall."

Dean added, bringing both Naomi's and Sam's attention to him, "Yeah. Maybe you should get some rest."

Sam stared at his brother, frozen. He knew what Dean was trying to do. Dean avoided his brother's gaze and focused on Naomi, feeling shocked himself.

Dean never backed out of a Sam plan. Once he said yes, he stuck to it, even if that meant they'd have to fight their way out of it. So, not following through now was a noticeable change, especially to the ever-perceiving Sam Winchester. Sam glanced at Naomi, then back at his brother. Dean could practically hear the gears moving in Sam's head.

Naomi glanced at Dean. He didn't offer anything, keeping his face flat and unreadable.

She glanced back at Sam. "What's going on? You guys are acting strange."

Sam focused back on her. "Naomi, we need your help to exorcise some demons in a town not too far from here."

Naomi's eyebrows furrowed while Dean's rose. _Well, he's getting right down to business. _

Naomi asked, "The angel said that I shouldn't go around anything that isn't human. Don't demons count as non-human?"

Sam pressed his lips together. "Yes, they do. We think, though, that we should take care of them since we're so close. They can't be up to anything good, right?"

Naomi stared at Dean, waiting for confirmation. Feeling as if he had somehow betrayed her, Dean gave a quick nod.

She met Sam's eyes. "Yeah, I suppose not."

Sam smiled wider. He rubbed her shoulders, then released her as he exited the room again. "Okay. Let's leave in 10."

Naomi nodded silently, her lips pressed together. Dean watched her silently dig through her suitcase and pull out some clothes to change into. She walked by without meeting his eyes. Before Dean could stop himself, he grabbed her arm before she escaped to the bathroom. Her puffy eyes met his and all what he could think to say was "Make it quick." He released her before walking out of the room again, leaving Naomi to watch him go.

The road trip was a silent one. Dean found himself checking his rearview mirror repeatedly, more to check on Naomi than the road behind him. Her eyes hadn't left her window since she crawled into the back of the Impala. Her face regained all of its color, but her eyes didn't glitter like they used to. He was about to address her when Sam said down to the map in his hands, his voice strong with adrenaline, "Take this road."

Dean turned onto the dirt road to their right and followed it, passing miles of cornfields. The sky rumbled above them and Dean gripped the steering wheel harder, the foreboding feeling churning in his stomach. After what felt like hours, a single house interrupted the green of the stalks. The old country home seemed too far-gone to be habitable, but as Sam checked the address he had written down and smiled, Dean knew it was where the demons were. Sam confirmed, "That's it."

Dean pulled into the patch of grass farthest from the house. As he stood out of the car, he stared up at the house. Other than the beat up truck parked by the house, there wasn't a single sign of life. Dean grit his teeth. _We shouldn't be here._

Sam got out of the car and met his brother's eyes over it. "You all right, Dean?"

He glanced at the house again. "Let's just get this over with." He shut the door behind him a little harder than he meant to, unconsciously wincing apologetically towards his Baby. He absentmindedly patted the Impala as he walked to the trunk.

Sam helped Naomi out of the car and didn't let go of her hand as she trailed behind him. Dean noticed how Sam's eyes seemed to inspect her, weighing his hopes with his fears concerning her. Dean turned his attention back to the car.

Popping open the trunk, Dean began digging through the supplies, glancing up at the house all the while. Sam joined him as Naomi leaned closer, inspecting the collection inside. She breathed, "Is it okay if I get a gun too?"

Sam and Dean's eyes met. Dean continued to load his rock salt shotgun, knowing he and his brother shared the same thought. _She shouldn't want a weapon. She's supposed to be our weapon._

Sam's face fell as he stared down at the gun he was holding. He handed it to her, not meeting her eyes. "Yeah. Here."

The two held the gun together for a moment before Sam released it. Naomi stared at him for a moment, then hefted the shotgun against her shoulder, aiming at a corn stalk a few feet from her. Dean could tell it wasn't her first time holding a gun. Any other time, he would have asked her about it, but he wanted to have this house in his rearview mirror as soon as possible. Questions would just have to wait.

She lowered it, then quietly said to Sam, "Thank you." He didn't respond.

After Dean and Sam felt adequately armed, with both guns and the demon knife, they snapped the trunk shut and started walking towards the door. Sam said over his shoulder to Naomi, "We'll go in first. You watch our backs. You know what to do if you see anything unfriendly." Dean saw Naomi nod hesitantly out of the corner of his eye.

The wooden stairs creaked under them as they made their way onto the porch. Dean motioned for Naomi to hug the wall. He and Sam nodded each other, then after both taking in a breath, kicked down the door.

Sam was the first to enter and was immediately met with an older man, dressed in a plaid shirt and overalls. After flashing his black eyes at Sam, the man roared as he swung a fist. Sam dodged it, then smacked the demon with the butt of his shotgun and pressed his boot into its neck. Dean skirted around Sam to clear the room up ahead. A woman with graying hair met him and smiled slyly at him. She said, "Well, well, well. If it isn't-" Dean cut her off by shooting her in the chest. The impact of the shot slammed her into the wall. He called out to Sam, "I got one in here!"

He kept his gun trained on his demon as he glanced at his brother. Sam had his knife against the man's throat. He hissed, "How many of you are there?"

The demon laughed, "We're the only ones here, Sam. We were just having a little fun with Old McDonald and his wife here."

Sam took his boot off the demon and roughly yanked him to his feet. "You don't mind if we check behind you, do you?" Sam's eyes found Dean's and Dean got the hint. He nodded and stomped up the steps. After a quick look, he found that the demon hadn't been lying. The house was otherwise empty. A crash and a cry downstairs spurred Dean to sprint to his brother's aid.

He found his brother in the living room, the demons' hands binding their hands together with some rope, their backs to each other. Sam had his gun trained on them both.

"Everything okay?"

Sam turned to his brother. "You know demons. They just don't shut up."

Dean snorted in agreement. "The house is clear."

The man rolled his eyes up at Sam. "Told ya."

Sam shouted, "All right, Naomi! Come in!"

Dean heard quiet footsteps grow closer and watched Naomi peek around the corner. The demons instantly flinched and growled, fighting the rope tied around their wrists.

Naomi stood straight and Dean noticed how thin and pale she seemed. This version of Naomi was the complete opposite of the Naomi he first met only days ago. She lowered her shotgun as she said, somewhat tiredly, "In Jesus' name, leave them!"

The woman started yelling, her eyes squeezed shut. The man huffed out, his black eyes glaring at Naomi, "This is it? We've heard _so_ much about you and this is all you have to offer?"

Naomi glanced at Dean and scrunched her forehead in concentration as she reached a hand out towards them. She closed her eyes and yelled hoarsely, "In Jesus' name, leave them!"

The demon threw his head back as he screamed, which quickly turned into a laugh. He swiveled his head towards Sam. "This is your saving grace, Sam? It looks like your little divine gift is faulty." He turned towards Naomi. "Or maybe that's just you."

Naomi aimed her gun at him and spat, "What have you done to me?"

The demon smirked up at her. "You've done this all on your own, sweetheart.

Dean noticed her finger hover over the trigger. He waited for her to pull it. Instead, after a minute of silence, she tiredly lowered the gun. "This can't be happening."

The demon leaned forward as far as he could. "Better believe it." His eyebrows rose as he gasped, as if he had forgotten something. "Oh, I almost forgot. We were sent to give you a little gift of our own from some of your admirers from our neck of the woods." He wiggled his eyebrows. "You coming to us made delivering it that much easier."

It was Dean's turn to aim his gun at the demon. "What are you talking about?"

The demon took note of Dean's sudden rise, then smiled smugly at Naomi. "Feeling a little under the weather?"

Both Sam and Dean turned towards Naomi. Now that he got a closer look, Dean could see sweat shining on Naomi's forehead and upper lip. She leaned against the doorway, her eyes blinking heavily. The shotgun dropped to the floor.

Dean growled at the demon, "What did you do to her?"

The demon winked. "Just gave her a little something to remember us by. She has quite a reputation down in the fiery pit. Everyone wanted to pitch in and get her something _really_ nice. We thought a strong bout of the flu would be just the thing."

Sam and Dean exchanged a glance. The demon smiled up coyly at them. "Sorry gentlemen, but we thought we'd just celebrate Naomi for today. Hate that you can't share it, but maybe next time."

Suddenly, Naomi collapsed onto the floor. Dean rushed to her and lifted her head. "Naomi? Naomi!" She didn't respond. After putting a hand to her forehead, he stared up at his brother and said, "She's burning up, Sammy.

Sam put the demon knife to the man's throat and snarled, "Take it back."

The demon smiled evilly up at Sam. "Can't. No take backs. Tell me, Sam. How does it feel to have your little savior non-operational?"

Sam growled, as he pressed the knife harder into the demon's throat, "Shut up."

The demon continued, "We both know you could get back on the wagon, suck us dry. You'd probably enjoy it too. All that power yours to do with as you please, feeling in control for once." He glanced at Dean holding Naomi, then back up at Sam. "That won't be enough though and you know it. If it was, you would have already gone happy hour on us."

Sam was silent. The demon relished it, leaning into the knife as he leaned closer to Sam. "Everything you've wanted is being taken away from you and all you can do is just sit back and watch. Must be tough to know that the world is going to end and it's all your-"

Sam silenced him by stabbing the demon between the ribs. Dean watched as the demon gasped as light emanated out of his mouth and the stab wound. Then, the light vanished and the man's body fell as he stopped breathing. Sam jabbed the blade again in his sternum as he yelled. The second demon laughed before Sam silenced it as well. He screamed as he threw the blade across the room and kicked over a rocking chair. He kept kicking it until the chair splintered. He fell onto his knees by its remains, breathing heavily.

Dean clutched Naomi, who was mumbling feverishly. He stared down at her, then at his brother. He would normally have gone to comfort Sam, but he could feel the sweat seeping through Naomi's clothes. "Sam, we need to get her out of here."

Sam sighed, then slowly stood. He retrieved the demon knife and said flatly as he passed Dean, "I'll drive."

Dean carried Naomi and held her in his lap as Sam drove back into town. Naomi was kicking her legs and throwing punches, but she was so weak that Dean hardly felt them make contact. He yelled, "Can you hurry up, please?"

Sam said coldly, "We can't take her to the hospital, Dean. Demons might be looking for us there."

Dean retorted hotly, "I think they've done enough damage already, Sam. What else is there left for them to do to her?"

Sam looked his brother in the eye. "You're the one who went to Hell. You tell me."

Dean stared at the road and tightened his jaw to keep his retort and his bile down. He didn't dare explore his knowledge on how creative demons could be. "Fine. Drop me off at the motel and go pick up some meds. She's not going to last much longer if we don't pump her up with something."

Sam's jaw was tight as he stared down the road. He said, through gritted teeth, "She's not the only one who isn't going to last much longer."

Dean stared at his brother. "Are we seriously going to do this now? She's dying, Sam!"

Sam smacked the steering wheel. "The world is going to die, Dean! She was our shot at saving everyone! Saving the world!"

Dean roared, "She isn't dead yet! And we aren't dead yet either! That means we keep fighting!"

Sam shook his head as he ran a hand through his hair. "I was right. She's lost her powers."

Dean was grasping at silver linings like he was to Naomi. "She still had some left in her. You saw her use it on them."

"It's not like how it was at the church. If she can't take down a couple of demons, how will she end the apocalypse?"

Dean sighed as he looked down at Naomi. Her face was now flushed, her cheeks bright red. He closed his eyes as he said evenly, "Let's just focus on keeping her safe, okay?"

Sam glanced at Naomi's now-limp body in Dean's arms. Dean noticed his brother's features soften for a moment before he looked back at the road. "Okay."


	13. Chapter 13

**Seeing the views on this story climb makes my little writer heart so happy! I appreciate you taking the time to read and follow Dean and Sam as they take on the apocalypse! If you would please review this story, it would mean the world! I would love to hear your thoughts! Thanks in advance!**

Chapter 13- The Flu

Sam unlocked the door to their room, but Dean didn't wait for him to open it as he pushed past his younger brother. Dean was careful to avoid hitting Naomi with the door as he leaned into it, causing it to swing open. Sam followed silently behind.

Naomi mumbled incoherently in Dean's arms as he paused to get a better grip on her. The sweat soaking through her clothes was causing her body to slip against his leather jacket, making holding her a struggle. He began to set her down on the bed when Sam called out from the bathroom, "Bring her in here."

Dean heard the sound of bath water running as he carried Naomi into the bathroom. Sam had his hand under the stream as he said to the faucet, "Put her in."

Dean looked down at the bathtub. "In her clothes?"

Sam turned to his brother, his eyes set and emotionless. He said flatly, "Her body needs to cool down quickly or it will overheat."

Dean nodded slowly, wary of Sam's sudden dryness, and gently placed her in the water. While he shivered as the cold water met his skin, Naomi hardly flinched. Dean noticed and looked to Sam worriedly, waiting for the next instruction.

Sam stared down at Naomi. "Go get some ice from the ice machine down the hall. The water needs to be colder."

Dean strode out of the room without a second glance. As he marched down the hallway, he noticed how fast his heart was beating. He didn't know if it was from carrying Naomi or from seeing her drop to the floor back at the house. He almost passed the machine, distracted by the image of her body crumpled on the dirty floor.

He yanked out his wallet and shucked out a few dollars, cramming them hurriedly into the machine. He shifted his weight back and forth, swearing when the machine rejected the bills. _She's lost her Glory. She's lost it and now she's going to...why did I take her to that friggin' house?_

After a few more tries, the machine accepted the money and began pouring ice into plastic bags. Dean tied off the bags quickly, toting two in each hand down the hall. He passed a few tenants who gave him curious looks, but he didn't care. The only thing on his mind was lying in a bathtub down the hall.

He rushed through the door, nearly running into Sam, his brother's tall body filling the bathroom doorway. Dean paused, watching Sam stare down at Naomi, the pained expression he wore wrinkling his forehead. After a moment, Dean dodged by him and began dumping the bags into the water. Naomi stirred restlessly, a quiet whine escaping her lips.

Dean felt her forehead with the back of his hand. Her skin hadn't cooled much. Dean brushed away the hair from her face, leaving his hand resting against her cheek for a moment. He inspected her, letting his eyes roam across her face. Her eyebrows were furrowed and her eyes shut. Her bottom lip puckered out, as if she were about to cry. Dean tried to swallow the feeling of helplessness that was pressing into his chest, but it didn't go away. He let his hand fall into the water as he turned to his brother. "What do we do, Sam?"

Sam continued to stare at Naomi as he worked his jaw, silence settling in between the brothers. Dean watched him, noticing how tired Sam looked. He sometimes forgot how hard the recent events had hit his little brother. He wanted Sam to look the same way he had that night, so long ago, at Stanford: happy.

After a minute, Sam whispered, "I can't do this." He turned and walked out of the room.

Dean was on his feet on an instant, charging after him. He grabbed Sam's shoulder and yanked his brother around to face him. Sam didn't put up a fight. Dean leaned in close to his brother's face and growled, "You are not going to leave her, do you hear me? I don't care what she was supposed to do or who she was supposed to save. You are _not_ going to leave her to-" He looked away for a moment, then met his brother's eyes again, the unspoken thought reflected in Sam's eyes. "You just aren't. Got that?"

Sam stared down at his brother, tears brimming in his eyes. He replied hoarsely, his hand turning the doorknob, "I'm sorry, Dean."

Dean watched him leave and stared at the ajar door for a minute before suddenly swearing and kicking it closed. He paced the room angrily as he heard the Impala growl to life in the distance and drive off with his brother. When he felt like he might explode, he looked up at the ceiling, addressing the only person left he could get angry at. He screamed, "Is this it? Is this what it boils down to? Me and You?"

He paced as he gestured at the ceiling, "I have had enough of You sending people to do the talking for You! Let's do this, right here and now!" He pointed towards the bathroom. "She has done nothing but believe in You and this is how You're going to repay her? Let her lose her Glory and watch her…die?"

He kicked the dresser and ignored the pain emanating from his foot. He pointed up at the ceiling, his voice rising to a roar. "You may have her fooled, but not me! I see right through You! You're nothing but a coward!" He opened his arms in invitation. "If You're so high and mighty, prove it! Prove that You have a heart and let her live!"

His arms fell by his side as he breathed heavily, almost waiting for a bolt of lightning to strike him. Silence was the only reply. He settled on the edge of the bed, putting his head in his hands. He whispered, "Please, just let her live. Please."

Dean didn't know how much time passed until he heard the stirring of water in the bathroom. He rose to check on Naomi and found her curled up in the bathtub, her lips blue. The water sloshed against the sides of the tub as she violently shivered in the water.

Dean rushed to her side, lifting her out of the tub in one motion. His heartbeat quickened as he stared at her eerily white face. As he made his way to her bed, he huffed, "Oh no. You aren't getting away that easy."

He lied her down, then quickly retrieved a dry towel to rub over her. He squeezed the water out of her hair, the part that had been submerged now dark auburn. He wrapped the towel around her as best he could and rubbed her shoulders, trying to get her warm. Her shivers shook the bed and her breath came out in shaky gasps.

Seeing it wasn't working fast enough, Dean searched the room for an answer. His eyes landed on one of Sam's flannels poking out of his bag. Dean stared down at Naomi for a moment, then yanked off his jacket. "All right. You need to get out of those clothes."

As he began to peel Naomi's clothes off of her, he half-heartedly joked, "We both know this is all an act to get me to take your clothes off." Naomi replied with her body jerking as a cold chill ran through her. He whispered, "You aren't fooling anybody."

Dean struggled with removing her clothes, trying to be gentle but quick. Under other circumstances, Dean would have admired the freckles scattered across Naomi's bare shoulders and how perfect he thought her feet were, but all that he focused on now was how her ghostly white skin clashed unnaturally against the black bra and underwear she wore. Her veins branched through her exposed body, the muted blue contrasting the white. _She needs to get warm. Fast._

Dean was able to pull the flannel on her, but she still continued to shiver. Dean bit the inside of his cheek for a moment, weighing his next solution. After a moment, he climbed into the bed next to her, wrapping his arms around her waist and pressing her against him. He fought the shiver that tempted to shoot through his spine as her cold body met his.

Pulling the covers over them, he whispered into her hair, "C'mon, Naomi. You can fight this. Don't let them win this one."

Her shivering slowly began to stop, but Dean continued to hold her close. He could still smell the faint vanilla he had come to associate with her. He gently nestled his face in the crook of her neck, smiling as he inhaled the scent once more. He bent his head to move when his lips brushed her neck.

Dean knew the feel of a woman's skin all too well. He had had his share of women in bed with him over the years, however, for some reason, Naomi's felt different…better. Dean couldn't help but rest his lips against her shoulder, feeling the smoothness of her skin on his lips. He closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of her body against his and the smell of vanilla surrounding the both of them.

Dean hadn't realized he had fallen asleep until he had awoken to Naomi's body sticking to his. She was moaning feverishly, kicking the sheets off of them. He stood and stared down at her, lost on what to do next. He had done enough caretaking of Sam growing up to know that the flu was nasty without some anti-biotics, but he didn't dare leave Naomi alone to get some.

As he began to rush her back to the bathtub, he heard the door lock click open and the sound of the floor squeaking under boots. He froze as the door swung open slowly, revealing Sam leaning heavily against the doorway. By the way his hair was askew and his clothes wrinkled and bunched in different areas, Dean knew where his brother had gone. Dean glared up at his brother darkly. "Are you seriously drunk right now?"

Sam shrugged as he swayed into the room and shut the door behind him. "Yeah. So?"

Dean would have punched him then and there if Naomi hadn't been in his arms. He looked down at her, then back at Sam. He growled threateningly, "We're going to have words later."

He turned towards the bathroom again only to feel something smack him in the back of his head. He whirled around, finding Sam staring back at him, as if bored. He pointed at the floor. "I got those while I was out."

Dean looked down at the ground and saw a white, paper pharmacy bag. He met Sam's eyes as his brother hiccupped, "They should help."

Sam kicked off his shoes and flopped onto his bed as Dean laid Naomi down on hers. Sam watched sleepily as Dean propped Naomi's head up with a few pillows, then grabbed a bottled water out of the mini-fridge to help wash the liquid medicine down.

"C'mon, Naomi, work with me here," he begged. Naomi was fidgeting against the pillow, making Dean struggle to hold still long enough to pour the medicine into her mouth. Every time the cap full of medicine touched her lips, Naomi resisted, thrashing as she weakly fought Dean off.

After a few more failed attempts, Dean smacked the bottle of medicine down on the bedside table. He didn't want to hurt her, but he'd do what he'd have to do to keep her alive.

Sam giggled behind him, "Not working out so well, huh?"

Dean shot onto his feet and spun around to face his brother. He hissed, "I don't care how drunk you are, if you don't shut up, I'll knock you out. It'll hurt more than the hangover you're going to have tomorrow morning, I can guarantee."

Sam smiled nonchalantly up at Dean, hands up in surrender. "All I'm saying is that you could sing to her."

Dean scoffed, "Sing? How wasted are you?"

Sam sat up, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. "Yeah, sing. They're called _lull_abies for a reason. That's why moms sing them to babies." He shrugged dopily. "Not that I'd know or anything."

Dean felt a sharp pang of longing at the memory of their mother. He could remember her singing him to sleep after he'd have a bad dream. She'd always sing the same song, the tune untraditional. In fact, as Dean began to recall it, it was a sort of eerie, sad tune. The corner of his mouth turned up at the memory.

Sam smiled sadly at Dean. "You know though, huh?"

Dean met his brother's eyes for a moment before turning back to Naomi. He often forgot how Sam never got to meet their mother while she was alive. It made his few memories of her even more precious.

Dean awoke from his thoughts as a quiet moan escaped Naomi's lips. Dean replied, "I'm not Mother Goose, Sam. I don't know nursery rhymes." He looked at his brother over his shoulder, adding, "I don't remember Mom's song that well either."

Sam shrugged as he lied back down, his arms resting behind his head. "Sing AC/DC then."

Dean turned once more to his brother. "Out of all the stuff you could have picked, you went with-"

"She likes them, Dean. She was wearing one of their tour shirts the night we played cards."

Dean recalled the memory fuzzily, remembering more clearly her crystal blue eyes staring at him over her card hand. He replied, "Oh. Yeah."

He found himself squirming as he looked back at Naomi. _This is stupid. She probably won't even hear me._

Sam urged, "Go on."

Dean struggled to think of a song, his mind suddenly going blank. _Of course I can't remember a song now! AC/DC of all bands. A friggin' classic and I can't think of a single song!_

Suddenly, he knew which song he would sing.

Clearing his throat awkwardly, he began, "_She was a fast machine, she kept her motor clean-_"

Sam interrupted, "C'mon, Dean! Sing louder!"

Dean shot a glare at his brother before turning back to Naomi. He sang louder, but after another verse, Sam stopped him again.

"You have to sing it slower. Like a lullaby."

Dean huffed, "Why don't you do it?"

Sam shrugged. "Rock is up your alley, not mine."

Dean stared back down at Naomi and remembered his mother again. She would stroke his hair when she'd sing. He liked that, so he figured it wouldn't hurt to try it with Naomi. Tentatively touching her forehead, he softly stroked her hair. He couldn't believe how soft it was, how easily his fingers fell through her curls. After a moment, he started singing the chorus, his voice gruff and deep,

"_And you shook me all night long_. _Yeah, you shook me all night long_."

He watched Naomi's face soften as he continued, hardly noticing Sam quietly join in. He felt something inside him as he sang to Naomi, stroking her hair. He didn't want to take away from it by trying to figure out its source, so he instead let it swell up inside him as he sang. He sang the chorus a few more times as he savored the warmth that had spread through him.

When he had finished the song, Dean heard soft snoring behind him. Sam was fast asleep.

Placing a hand under her neck, Dean was able to get Naomi to take the medicine without a fight. He tipped the water bottle against her lips and she drank thirstily, most of the bottle gone by the time she had finished. Dean tucked the covers and blanket around her, then lied down on top of them next to her, propping his head up on his arm.

He watched her eyes flit under her eyelids and her chest rise and fall as she slept. Sweat glistened on her upper lip, which he gently wiped away. She didn't stir. He rubbed a piece of her hair against his fingers as he sang softly, gently soothing him to sleep.

_You really took me and you shook me all night long._


	14. Chapter 14

**It's official. Walking the graduation stage tomorrow...WOO HOO! As a way of celebrating, here's one of the three chapters to be posted this weekend! My treat!**

Chapter 14- The News

Dean awoke to sunlight streaming through the curtains, warming his face. He slid a hand down his face sleepily, then stilled as he felt the bed move next to him. He turned towards the disturbance and found Naomi sleeping next to him. Yesterday's events rushed back and Dean leaned over to check on her. Her rosy face told him that the fever had broken. He smiled as he felt his body relax. _She's safe_.

Dean found himself continuing to watch Naomi, admiring how the light enhanced the freckles dotted across her nose and cheeks. He began to reach out to touch a few when he heard the sound of fizzing behind him.

Looking over his shoulder, he found Sam sitting on the edge of the bed, a cup of bubbling water in one hand and an Alka-Seltzer wrapper in another. Dean whispered, "Headache?"

Sam gulped down the cup and grimaced at it. "Like you wouldn't believe."

Dean chuckled and Sam grinned down at his feet. As the laughter subsided, something settled between them. Their eyes met and Dean saw Sam's apology for yesterday staring back at him. Dean knew he had apologies to make too. As he opened his mouth to beat Sam to the punch, he was interrupted by the flutter of wings.

Castiel appeared at the foot of the bed, his back to them. The first words out of his mouth were, "Where is she?"

Dean raised his eyebrows, then chuckled. "Nice to see you too, Cas."

Castiel wheeled around, wearing an unfamiliar expression. His blue eyes seemed electrified with an energy Dean hadn't seen in the angel before. After a moment, he realized it was anger. Dean stopped smiling.

Castiel switched his gaze between Naomi and Dean beside her. "You are lying in bed with the weapon to end the apocalypse." He stated it factually, but Dean couldn't help but feel heat on his face as he glanced at Sam, then at their angelic friend.

Dean spat out defensively, "Yeah. I had to keep an eye on her while you were off traipsing around the pearly gates. Naomi was _dying_, Cas. And where were you?"

Castiel stared darkly at Dean and slowly walked closer. Dean could hear the crackle of electricity in their room and felt his hair begin to stand on end. He had stepped too far.

Castiel replied, "I was warding off the evil I had warned you to avoid. You have beaconed your location by seeking them out and now all of Hell knows where to find you."

Dean swung his legs out of the bed and stood, facing off with the angel. "We took care of them just fine."

Castiel shook his head. "You are foolish to think that those demons came here for you." He looked over Dean's shoulder at Naomi. He continued, "She is in danger here."

He reached out his hand toward her, but Dean grabbed his wrist. Sam warned, "Dean!" but Dean didn't listen. Castiel met Dean's eyes and inspected him, the expression on his face the closest thing the angel could get to surprise.

Castiel explained, "I'm going to inscribe her with the same cloaking symbols that I placed on you."

Dean replied, not missing a beat and not releasing his grip on Castiel's wrist, "She needs to rest."

"She is in danger."

"You said that all of Hell already knows where we are. Carving her up won't help that."

Sam interrupted, "Dean, he can heal her completely and then we can leave." Anxiety was etched on Sam's face as he exchanged a glance between the two.

Castiel turned to Sam. "I cannot heal her."

Dean released him and stepped back. He and Sam asked simulataneously, "What?"

"Her Glory is more powerful than any of my powers. She can heal herself." He glanced at her sleeping peacefully in the bed. "She should have been fully healed by now."

The Winchesters exchanged a glance, then looked at Castiel. Sam said, "Castiel, we think Naomi has lost her Glory."

Castiel cocked his head slightly. "Glory cannot be lost. It can only be given or taken."

Dean stepped forward again. "Hold up. You're telling us that someone is _taking_ her Glory?"

Castiel looked at Naomi for a moment, the wheels turning in the angel's head. After a moment, he turned to the brothers. "Yes."

Sam asked, "Who's taking it?"

"Only the One who gave it can take it away."

Dean scowled at Castiel. "So, God. God is taking away her Glory."

Sam whispered, "'The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away'." He looked at Castiel. "Job, right?"

Dean pushed past them. "Who cares who said it?" He turned back to the pair. "Who does He think He is, giving something like that to-" He glanced at Naomi. "-to someone, then taking it away for no reason?"

Castiel replied, "There must be a reason."

Dean strided over to Castiel, then leaned in close enough where their noses almost touched. He growled, "If there is a reason, it's one God is pulling it out from where the sun don't shine. She has done _nothing_ to deserve this, do you hear me?" He pointed to her. "All she has done is cling to God! Don't you dare start blaming her for any of this!"

Castiel held Dean's gaze, inspecting him. He stated, "In the past, Glory has been taken because of disobedience or the loss of faith." He reached out towards Naomi and said, as she cried out, "Naomi will know why the Glory was taken." He disappeared.

Naomi's eyes were squeezed shut as she hugged herself, screaming out in pain.

Both Dean and Sam launched towards her, but Sam reached her first. He cupped her face in his hands and yelled, "Naomi, it's okay! It's over!"

Her eyes opened and wildly searched Sam's eyes staring back at her. Sam smiled, a sigh of relief escaping his lips. Dean found himself doing the same. He felt like it had been an age since he had seen those blue eyes.

Sam repeated, as he ran a thumb over Naomi's cheek, "It's okay. It's okay." Her breathing was heavy, but slowed as she calmed down. Then, Dean watched the memory of the events before the fever and the realization of what they meant wash over her face. She whispered hoarsely, "Sam…"

"I know, Naomi. I am so sorry."

Her lip trembled for a moment, then her face scrunched together as she began to cry. She covered her face with her hands and leaned into them, her body shaking. Sam, without hesitation, wrapped his arms around her and pulled her towards him. Naomi fell into his chest, the sound of her sobs escaping her hands and his shirt.

Dean watched the two, feeling as if he was intruding. His stomach knotted at the sound of Naomi's crying, longing to hold her like he had last night. He couldn't help but feel as if Sam had taken his rightful place. _Or did you take his?_

He slowly got off the bed, the room suddenly too hot and too small to stay in. He grabbed his coat and quietly left the room, saying, "I'll be back" to no one in particular. As he closed the door behind him, he took one last look into the room. The door shut on Sam kissing Naomi's forehead as he gently rocked her.

Dean found himself at the nearest bar once lunchtime rolled around. He felt like it had been too long since he last had a drink and after all that he had been through in the last forty-eight hours, the familiarity of a small town bar was what he needed. Since it was only lunchtime, the bar was practically empty, save for a few lonely stragglers and a couple of employees. _Good. The last thing I need is a crowd._

Dean nursed a glass of whiskey as he stared up at the small TV that hung by the wall of liquor. It was on the news channel, broadcasting a story on a politician. The face was recognizable, having been on the cover of every newspaper, magazine, and TV channel Dean had come across for the past six months. Even though Dean wasn't much into politics, he knew enough to know the man on the screen was popular. He read the headline scrolling across the screen, proclaiming the name, William Cartee.

A sultry voice stole Dean's attention. "Want me to top that off?"

Dean glanced at the voice's owner, revealed to be the bartender. Dean would have appreciated her full lips and the curves her black shirt hugged flatteringly if he didn't feel as badly as he did. As he took note of her, lust was replaced with an empty feeling Dean was more than happy to leave a mystery and drown in booze.

He tossed back the remainder of his whiskey and pushed the glass towards her. "Absolutely."

She watched him as she poured the dark liquid into the glass. Not a drop missed its target. "Girl, money, or job?"

Dean raised a questioning eyebrow at her.

She placed the glass in front of him and leaned over the bar, giving Dean a front row view of her seemingly never-ending cleavage and a name tag that read "Tiffany" in big, bubbly letters. "There's only three reasons guys come in here looking the way you do. So, which one is it? Girl, money, or job?"

Dean gulped down the glass' contents and stared somberly back at her. "Job. Girl. Family. Take your pick."

Tiffany smirked. "Two for three."

Dean shot her a sarcastic smile as he pushed the glass towards her again. "Not the best score."

She stared down at his glass, then back at him, one eyebrow quirking upwards. "Not the best combination."

Dean scoffed, meeting her eyes. Tiffany spun the glass on its edge, the crystal glittering as the light caught it. She stated, as it slowed and stopped, "Let me guess. She left you for your brother."

Dean smirked bitterly at her. "Probably shouldn't look into fortune telling as a full-time thing."

Tiffany filled his glass again, but as he reached for it, she held it away from him and close to her chest. He stared at the glass for a moment, then slowly met her eyes. A knowing grin was spread across her face. "Ah. So, _you're_ the homewrecker." She tilted her head playfully. "Why isn't your brother in here instead of you?"

Dean glowered at her. "I'm not a homewrecker."

She smiled smugly at him as she handed him his drink. He wrapped his hands protectively around it, warding off any future attempts to keep it from him. "Well, looks to me like you're thinking about being one. She must be quite the catch to be worth stealing her from your flesh and blood."

Dean didn't reply, emptying his glass as he watched the television. He was becoming less fond of Tiffany's company and her probing questions.

She followed his gaze and stared at the screen. She asked, awe ringing in her voice, "He's something, isn't he?"

Dean shrugged. "Don't know too much about him."

She turned to him, her eyes wide with surprise. "Do you live under a rock? He's the hottest topic right now!"

Dean watched the screen, nothing standing out to him particularly about William Cartee. "What's so special about him?"

Tiffany turned back to the screen and stared at it for a moment, watching the politician's face as he was being interviewed. After a moment, she replied, her voice distant, "He's just…different. He's one of those people that when he walks into a room, every eye is on him, you know?" She looked at Dean. "He's done a lot of good too." She counted off her fingers. "Built homeless shelters, lowered taxes, got bills passed for lots of different civil rights, the list goes on and on. People are saying that he's going to win the presidential election by a landslide. I wouldn't be surprised." She looked at Dean again. "Seriously, where have you been?"

Dean glanced at the screen again, now scrutinizing the face. He finished his drink. "Busy."

Tiffany reached her hand out for the glass, but Dean instead handed her some bills to cover his tab and her tip. He smiled. "While I can still remember my name."

Tiffany smiled coyly at him as she tucked the bills into her bra. "You know, you shouldn't drive after all that whiskey you've downed." She glanced at the clock, then back at Dean. "I need to take my lunch. Want to sober up at my apartment? It isn't far from here." Her finger slowly traced the rim of the glass, her hot pink nails glaringly bright.

Dean smiled at her as he stood to tuck his wallet back into his pocket. As he did so, Tiffany's face grew closer, her eyes focused on Dean's lips. Dean inhaled the smell of her strong perfume and the vanilla lipgloss on her lips. _Vanilla…_

He replied gruffly, "I need to be heading back."

She looked up at him through her eyelashes, whispering silkily, "To your job, girl, and family?"

Dean stepped back. "They need me."

As he walked out, Dean barely heard Tiffany call out over the bell that rang above his head, "Or is it you who needs them?"


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter Fifteen- The Argument

Dean had pulled into a parking space at the motel and still sat in it fifteen minutes later. He was beginning to feel the effects of the whiskey and his thoughts were becoming fuzzy. Vaguely remembering how he had left his brother and Naomi, he feared what he'd walk in on inside the room. He slapped the wheel, stopping the whirlwind of thoughts in their tracks. _This is stupid. He was just comforting her. Any decent person would do that if some chick was crying right in front of them._

He climbed out of the car, fumbling with his keys to lock the car behind him. He could feel his feet becoming heavier and stumbled a few times before he made it to their room. As Dean turned the key in their door, he heard muffled voices on the other side. He grimaced, taking in a deep breath as he let the door swing open.

Dean stepped back as he watched the scene before him unfold. The voices had grown much louder upon opening the thick door, their owners standing in the middle of the room. Dean noted they were both fully clothed, which made the corner of his mouth quirk up for a moment.

Sam had his hands on Naomi's shoulders as he tried to meet her eyes. He was begging, "Naomi, please. You don't understand-"

Naomi shoved his hands off of her as she walked away from him. "No, you don't understand, Sam! That's the whole point!"

Dean noticed how her eyes seemed to crackle with energy as she glared at the ground. Dean knew he should have been concerned, but he realized that he liked her angry.

Naomi whirled around and yelled, "You don't know a single thing about me! You've never cared, much less asked! All what you know is that I have-no, _had_ abilities that you had plans for! Plans you didn't even have the decency to let me in on! That don't even matter now!"

Sam pleaded, "Naomi, we could figure something out. We could get the Glory back!"

She yelled back, "Don't you get it? I _doubted_, Sam! When that thing came into my room, it messed with me. It said things…horrible things that weren't true, but I believed anyway! I questioned God. I lost faith in Him!"

Sam kept trying to get closer to Naomi, but she kept backing closer to the wall. He asked softly, "Couldn't you just apologize? Say you're sorry and ask for it back?"

A moment of silence fell in between the two. Naomi leaned against the wall and said quietly, "Don't you think I have? Don't you think I have bargained and begged?" She looked at the ground. "He has no reason to give it back to me. I don't deserve it."

Sam started, "Naomi-"

She cut him off. "No, Sam! The only reason you care is because I was supposed to save the world! I'm just a tool to you! To use and then throw away once you're done with me!"

Sam slowly stepped towards her, placing a hand on her cheek. "Naomi, I think you know you mean more to me than that."

Dean noticed Naomi didn't push Sam's hand away this time. The electricity in her eyes simmered into something Dean hadn't seen in them before. His stomach flopped inside him and he was pretty sure it wasn't from the alcohol.

Sam slowly leaned towards Naomi, cupping his other hand under her jaw. He paused as their noses touched, staring down at her lips. Naomi whispered, "Sam-", but was silenced as Sam pressed his lips against hers.

Dean felt a wave of heat wash over him. He was angry. Hurt. Betrayed. He spoke, his voice coming out as a croak, "Sam."

Naomi yanked away, turning towards Dean. Her eyes widened in surprise as they met Dean's. Dean held her gaze, but after a moment looked to the ground. He couldn't look at her now. Not after what he just saw.

He turned to Sam, who was shooting daggers back at him.

Naomi looked to Sam, then Dean. She whispered to the floor, "I can't do this" as she dodged around Sam to snatch her jacket and shoes.

Sam grabbed her elbow. "Naomi, wait. Please."

She looked at him for a moment, then glanced at Dean over her shoulder. Meeting Sam's eyes again, she pulled her arm out of his grip. "I need to think."

Sam let his arm fall to his side as she walked away. Dean watched her as she came closer to him, hoping she'd look his way. However, her eyes stayed on the floor as she stepped around Dean and turned around the corner. He caught a quick whiff of vanilla as she passed, but after a moment, it left too.

Dean turned back to the room and found Sam glaring at him once more, his hands curled into fists. Dean smiled smugly at his younger brother. "Well, didn't you do a first class job at pissing her off?"

Sam growled, "I was doing fine before you barged in."

Dean snorted, "Yeah, so I saw."

Sam stepped forward, staring intently at Dean. He stated, almost accusingly, "Dean, I think I'm in love with her."

Dean shook his head and chuckled softly, trying to brush off the pang of hurt that resounded in his chest. He closed the door behind him. "No, Sam. I don't think you are."

Sam stood taller and puffed out his chest, seeming to take up even more room than he already did. He spat back, "Yeah, like you're such an expert on it."

Dean laughed cruelly, feeling the alcohol releasing the words he had been bottling since they met Naomi. "Sam, she was right. You'd be fooling yourself to think otherwise. She's a tool to you. You're not in love with her, you're in love with the fact that she could have cleared your conscious about going domestic with Ruby and breaking Lucifer out of Hell."

Sam worked his jaw, his nose wrinkled in fury. He spat back, "You're one to talk about fooling themselves!"

Dean shook his head. "Stop throwing B.S."

Sam marched up to his brother and hissed, "I'm not blind, Dean. I see the way you look at her."

Dean's smile fell immediately. He growled, "Shut up, Sam."

Sam continued, "You can try to ignore it and fight it all you want, but the fact remains that she doesn't want you!"

Dean's fist flew, connecting with his brother's eye. Sam reeled back, bracing himself as he stumbled against the bed. He glared at Dean and straightened, ready to fight.

Dean was breathing heavy, his fists by his side. He warned, as he pointed at his brother, "You don't know anything about it, Sam. Shut your mouth or I'll shut it for you."

Sam stilled, weighing what to do next. After a moment, he shot Dean a cold glare before grabbing his jacket and marching around his brother, then out the door.

Dean flexed the hand he punched Sam with, inhaling deeply as he tried to slow down his pounding heart. He kicked off his boots, yanked off his jacket, and fell onto Naomi's bed. He snatched the pillow from up under his head and punched it over and over, fighting the tears he felt pressing behind his eyes.

Sam's words echoed in his head. _You can try to ignore it and fight it all you want, but the fact remains that she doesn't want you._


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter Sixteen- The Curb

Someone was shaking Dean awake. He grabbed the stranger's arms as his eyes flew open. Sam was above him, his eyes wide with fear.

Sam asked, "Where's Naomi?"

Dean craned his neck to look around his brother. He asked groggily, "She hasn't come back yet?"

Sam released Dean and stood back as Dean sat up. "I don't know. I just walked in a second ago and didn't see her in here."

Dean turned to their window, seeing the sky was now pitch black. _It's late. She should have been back by now._

Dean and Sam exchanged a look and immediately jumped into action. Sam started gathering weapons while Dean rounded up his shoes. Dean fired questions at Sam, who replied equally rapidly.

"When did she leave?"

"Around seven."

"What direction did she head in?"

"She turned right. There's a door down the hall that points east towards the downtown area."

"What did she take with her?"

"Jacket and shoes. No keys, no phone." Dean looked up to find Sam holding Naomi's phone in his hand. Dean pressed his lips together, then continued to tie his boots.

"Dean, what if-"

"Sam, we'll find her. She can handle herself." He yanked his boot laces with finality. "She'll be fine."

Dean stood, facing Sam. From the way the bruise around Sam's eye was beginning to form, Dean could tell it would be good one. There was a silent understanding between them that all thoughts of their fight earlier were pushed aside. They had a bigger problem at hand and both were willing to focus on it instead. Dean stated as he stuck an arm through his leather jacket, "There really isn't anywhere for her to go around here within walking distance. I'll drive the Impala east in downtown. You head there west on foot in case she's in a building and we'll meet in the middle. 'kay?"

Sam nodded distractedly. "Yeah."

Dean softly grasped Sam's shoulder. "Sammy."

Sam met his brother's eyes. Dean assured, "We'll find her." After a moment, Sam nodded as he handed Dean a shotgun and stuffed the demon knife in the back of his pants. He repeated, "We'll find her."

The boys split, Dean driving one way and Sam walking the other. As Dean drove away, he glanced in his rearview mirror, watching his brother's figure shrink. With a sigh, he focused on the road in front of him. _We'll find her._

Thirty minutes later, Dean agitatedly tapped his thumb against the steering wheel as he scanned the sidewalk on either side of the downtown strip. He was at the point where he considered praying for help finding her, but soon dismissed it. _If anything, God is the reason for this mess. _

The Impala's headlights gave enough light to see the general outline of the buildings lining the street, but Dean had to squint to see anything beyond that. He had his windows down, listening to hear something that would lead him to her. Dean could recall the sound of her screams a few nights ago and hoped he wouldn't hear them again.

As he drove down the strip, he began to recognize a few of the buildings he passed. Realizing the bar was a few blocks away, Dean pressed his foot down on the gas a little harder. _The bar will be open now. Maybe Tiffany has seen her. _

As he pulled up to the bar, he noticed the windows were dark. His heart sank. He craned his neck to see inside. Seeing no sign of anyone, he turned away. The fear of not finding her that was gripping his stomach seemed to clench a little harder.

Then, he saw her.

Under a street light ahead, Naomi was sitting on the curb, leaning against the wooden pole the light hung from.

Dean released a sigh of relief, freeing the steering wheel from his white knuckled grip. He dropped his head for a moment, then ran his fingers through his hair and down his face. _She's okay._

He got out of the Impala and walked slowly up to her. He called out, "Hey."

Naomi looked up at Dean and grinned. She slurred, "Hey, stranger."

Eyeing the case of beer on one side of her and the three empty bottles on the other, Dean raised his eyebrows at her. "Didn't know Mother Teresa was a beer kind of girl."

Naomi emptied what was left of the contents of the bottle in her hand. She tossed it behind her and giggled, "I didn't either. I've never drank this much before."

Dean crouched down next to her, inspecting her as she held another bottle up to the light, the brown glass glittering on her cheeks. Besides being white girl wasted, she didn't have a scratch on her.

Dean tucked a strand of hair out of her face. He said softly, "You know, you gave me a scare when you weren't in the room when I woke up."

Naomi swayed a little as she flipped the cap off the bottle. She smiled sheepishly, "You were worried about me?"

Dean gently took the bottle from her, holding eye contact with her as he took a sip. He could feel the smirk he wore as his lips pressed against the bottle.

Then, he remembered Sam. The smirk turned down as he moved to face the street, resting his elbows on his knees. He pulled his phone out and began dialing, mumbling, "Well, Sam and I were both worried."

Naomi scooted closer to Dean. "How worried were you?"

A smile returned to Dean's face. He glanced at her, noticing how her knee was pressed against his. The smell of vanilla overcame him again and he slid his phone back in his pocket. "Pretty worried. We didn't know if you were okay."

Naomi grinned as she leaned close enough to whisper, "I like thinking of you worried about me."

Dean struggled to swallow, his mouth suddenly dry. "You do?"

"Mmm hm." She still hadn't moved her knee and she was staring at his lips.

Something nagged in the back of his mind. Sam. Sam still thought Naomi was gone. Sam was out looking for the girl he kissed back at the motel room. Dean's jaw instinctively tightened.

He sighed, as he looked away from Naomi, "Look, Naomi. I saw you and Sam…you know, back at the motel."

Naomi's smile fell and her shoulders sank. She looked pitiful and Dean never missed a smile so much as he did hers. She said, "I wish you didn't."

Dean felt his own shoulders fall. "Oh."

Feeling something warm slide into his hand, Dean looked down. Small fingers laced through his, seeming almost to be swallowed up. Dean drew a small circle on the back of her palm before he met her gaze.

She was smiling up at him. "I wanted it to be you, Dean."

Dean started, "But Sam-"

Naomi interrupted, putting a hand under Dean's jaw and a thumb against his lips. "Dean. Forget about Sam."

Dean stared down at her blue eyes for a moment, thinking he had heard her wrong. Since they first met, Dean knew Sam had eyes on her. He figured the feelings had been reciprocated. They always were with girls past.

This time was different though. She chose him. She chose him over Sam, the brother who always did the right thing and who put others before himself. Dean always considered himself the wrong pick, but she chose him. Over Sam.

As if releasing a rubberband, Dean slid his hands around her jaw and pressed his lips against hers, every thought of Sam gone.

Dean had kissed a lot of women in his lifetime. He'd had bad kisses and he'd had good ones. He'd had shy, sweet kisses and he'd had hard, sloppy kisses. This kiss, however, was a whole new ballgame: it was hungry.

Dean craved one kiss after another, each one leaving him feeling less sated than the last. She tasted like the sweetness of freedom and rebellion. She was more than a conquest, beyond a challenge. She was something more and Dean wanted more of whatever that was.

Naomi grabbed the collar of his shirt and twisted it around her fist, yanking him closer. Her other hand grabbed his hair, sending a shiver down his spine. A quiet moan from Naomi sent him over the edge.

He wrapped his arms under her, lifting her onto his lap. Her legs clinged to him and her hands snaked over his neck and hair, pulling their heads even closer. He stood, bringing her with him as he began to walk towards the car. Naomi broke the kiss and breathed, "No. The bar" before continuing the kiss.

Dean obeyed, walking towards the bar door and leaning against it. Naomi's hand left him only long enough to turn the doorknob behind her and open the door.

It was Dean's turn to break the kiss. "Wait. How did you-?"

She grinned. "How do you think I got the beer, Winchester?"

Dean smiled as he kissed her neck. He whispered huskily against her skin, "You're a downright criminal."

Naomi placed her hands under his jaw, forcing him to look up at her. Her eyes glittered with mischief. "Just shut up and kiss me."

Dean obliged as he shoved the door closed behind them. The bar was dark, but enough moonlight shone through the windows for Dean to find his way. His boots clomped against the hardwood floor as he headed for the pool table across the room. He hardly sat Naomi down on the table before she yanked his jacket off of him and dropped it to the floor.

Dean slid his hands around her waist, letting his fingers slip under her shirt and brush her skin. He didn't let his hands leave the warmth of her skin as he slid them up, taking her shirt with them. She raised her hands above her head and let the shirt drop to the floor. Dean's lips found her neck again as Naomi's body arched against his, his hands roaming. She sighed, "The bedroom is by the bar."

Dean glanced at the closed door by the liquor wall, then met Naomi's eyes. The desire he felt shredding him apart was reflected in her eyes. He replied with a smirk, "Let's check it out" as he picked her up again and carried her into the room.

The bedroom was simple, furnished only with a bed and a dresser, a matching mirror standing in the corner. As Dean made his way into the room, he tripped over the rug in the middle of the floor and half-fell onto the bed. Naomi met his eyes and the two broke out in laughter.

After the laughter died down, Naomi hooked her fingers in Dean's belt loops and yanked Dean down on her, making him straddle her. She said, as he kissed her neck again, "I've wanted this since I first saw you."

Dean smiled against her neck. "Took you long enough to come around."

Naomi shoved him playfully in his chest, then kissed his smirk with a smirk of her own. As she gently bit his lip, leading him to lie down on her, she whispered, "Let's do this."

Dean watched Naomi as she pulled off his shirt and worked on his belt. She looked stunning, the moonlight seeming to make her skin glow. He wanted her almost more than he could bear and the fact she wanted him too felt like a dream. But, like every dream, one always has to wake up.

Dean felt the reality of the situation seem to clear the fog he was in. Naomi was under him, beautiful…but drunk. He wasn't a stranger to drunk hook-ups, but to add Naomi to that list seemed low. She didn't deserve to be another check on the list. He didn't want her to be.

He pulled away from her enough for Naomi to notice. She stopped undoing the belt. "What is it, Dean?"

"Naomi, we can't do this."

She laughed, as she pulled the belt out of the loops, "Oh, I think we can."

He grabbed her wrists, causing her to pause again. "No, we can't. I can't. Not while you're like this."

Naomi shrugged. "So? Why should that matter to you?"

"Because this is special. You're special. I want this to be different, something we both want."

Naomi sat up, trying to kiss him, but Dean leaned out of her reach. She stated, "Dean. I want to do this."

"You're drunk. I don't want you to regret this in the morning."

Naomi smiled again as she leaned in, pulling his hand to the clasps of her bra strap. "Dean, I could never regret being with you."

Dean clenched his fists and squeezed his eyes shut. He worked his jaw, struggling to find every ounce of strength he knew he'd need. Naomi lied back down and ran her fingers along his spine. He shivered. She cooed, "C'mon, Dean."

Dean lied against her, sliding his hands up her arms as he pressed them into the bed…then leaned back. "Naomi. I can't."

Naomi stared up at him, her eyes widening as tears began to brim them. She sniffed, "Do you not want me anymore? Did I do something wrong?"

Dean leaned over her, resting both hands under her jaw. "No, Naomi. God, no."

"Then, why don't you want to-?"

"I want to. I do. I _really_ want to. I just want us both to be above water when we do this."

Naomi's lip quivered and Dean leaned in. "Naomi-"

He was cut off as Sam burst through the door, roaring, "Dean!"

Dean's head whipped towards his brother. He opened his mouth to explain when Naomi started screaming.

She shoved Dean off of her, yelling, "Sam! Sam, help me!"

Before Dean could react, Sam was lifting him off the bed and into the air. The younger brother threw Dean across the room, his head smacking against the wall.

Dean held his head as he stood, feeling blood stick to his fingers and hair. Sam had wrapped his jacket around Naomi, who had begun crying. She gulped for air and sobbed, "He wouldn't leave me alone! He kept trying to kiss me and I told him to go away and then he just grabbed me! He tore off my shirt and threw me onto the bed! I tried to scream, I tried to-!" She burst into another round of crying, muffled by Sam's chest.

Dean yelled, "What? Naomi! Why are you-?"

Sam bellowed, as he led Naomi out of the room, "Don't you talk to her! Don't even _look_ at her!"

Dean followed them out into the bar, scooping up his shirt and pulling it on. "Sam, I don't know why she's saying that, but-"

Sam spun around and threw his weight behind his punch, hitting Dean in the jaw. Dean flew back, smacking into the pool table behind him. Before he could stand, Sam yanked him up by the front of his shirt, yanking the handful of Dean's shirt, so that he was nose-to-nose with him. Sam seethed, "Don't you dare start lying to me, Dean. Don't you dare."

Dean replied, his hands up in surrender, "Sam, I'm not! She wasn't acting like that before you came in! Something is going on-"

A resounding thud echoed in the empty bar as someone swung a baseball bat at Sam's head. Sam crumpled to the ground, revealing Naomi behind him spinning the bat in her hand.

Dean backed against the table, a hand out to ward her off. "Naomi! What do you think you're doing?"

Naomi popped her hip out to one side and rested the bat on her shoulder. She sighed, "Ah, Dean. I was hoping to do this after I got an eyeful of you in your birthday suit."

She swung the bat at him and he caught it. Without missing a beat, Naomi thrusted her knee into Dean's groin. Dean fell to the ground, struggling to breathe.

Naomi gave him a tight smile. "Not exactly what I had planned for those jewels of yours, but oh well." She reared back, raising the bat back in preparation to swing.

She winked. "Strike three. You're out."

Dean's world went black as he was knocked unconscious.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter Seventeen- The Reunion

"Wakey, wakey!"

Dean felt someone smacking his face. He tried to swat them away, but he couldn't move his hands. He groggily opened his eyes to find Naomi standing in front of him, her hand on his cheek. He let out a groan as his head began to pound.

She popped him on the cheek again with finality. "Ah, there we go. Glad you could be with us, Dean."

Dean immediately searched the room for Sam. He was surrounded by concrete walls, feeling its coolness against his back as he hung against one. Smelling the musty scent of water and dirt, along with seeing the stacks of beer around him, Dean deducted they were in the bar's basement.

Dean found Sam next to him, his hands bound with rope around a water pipe above him, his feet barely grazing the ground. Dean looked up and saw that he was in the same situation. _Uh oh._

Facing his brother, Dean coughed, "You all right?" His mouth was dry and the mounds of beer around him seemed to intensify the thirst.

Sam squinted at Dean through the hair hanging in his face. The bruise from Dean's punch earlier had darkened around Sam's eye, causing the color of his eyes to stand out even more. He nodded, "Yeah."

Sam kept glancing at something over Naomi's shoulder and Dean's eyes followed. A flash of pink caught his eye and as he allowed his eyes to focus, his jaw tightened. A pair of still legs garbed with hot pink heels poked behind a box of beer. Dean recognized the shoes instantly. _Tiffany_.

Naomi interjected, "Oh, you'll be fine. You've taken a lot worse than a shot at the balls and a baseball bat to the head."

Struggling to focus on Naomi and not the pink heels, Dean tested the rope tied around his hands. It didn't budge.

Naomi noticed, her eyes flicking to the pipe above him. "Yeah, that's good and tight." She spun her hair seductively around her finger. "I have to say, I was incredibly turned on by tying you two up."

Dean finally pulled his eyes away from the pink and zeroed in on the blue. He asked cautiously, "Naomi, what's going on?"

Sam spoke up, his voice dangerously low, "Dean. That isn't Naomi."

Dean turned to his brother, wary of the cold glare he was giving her. Slowly facing Naomi again, Dean asked slowly, "All right. Who is it then?"

Naomi sighed as she crossed her arms. "C'mon, Dean. It hasn't been _that_ long since we've seen each other."

Naomi's eyes turned black.

Dean felt his jaw slacken. Naomi's mouth formed into a cruel smirk as she crossed her arms. "Ah. I can practically hear the light bulb turning on."

"Meg?"

"You get a gold star. Tell me, how are Ellen and Jo?"

Dean lunged forward at her, but was stopped short by his hands bound above him. He growled, "You son of a-"

Naomi stood. "Oh, calm down, Dean. It was just a joke." She winked at him as she turned to Sam, who was glaring at her and wrestling with the rope around his wrists. "Oh, don't look at me like that, Sam. Naomi practically begged me to take over for her."

Sam asked, through gritted teeth, "How did you find her?"

Naomi loftily tossed her hair over her shoulder. "It wasn't that hard, thanks to you two marking a huge X on this little spot." She gestured towards the stacks of beer, then turned to Dean. "You should really think about changing your repertoire. Cheap motels and the Impala are all pathetically predictable."

Dean replied, "Repertoire, huh? That's a pretty big word for you and your IQ."

Naomi smiled cruelly. "That's something coming from you, Dean. You aren't exactly the sharpest crayon in the box."

Before Dean could show off the color of his vocabulary, Sam interrupted by seething, "Did you hurt her?"

Naomi's attention was drawn back to Sam. She walked casually over to him. "I didn't have to hurt her, Sammy. All I did was walk through an open door." She tucked a piece of hair out of Sam's face and behind his ear. "Fear, hopelessness, and confusion are a welcome mat for a demon and she laid one out that I couldn't resist." She shrugged. "Granted, if I had been as shrimpy as I was last time we met, I wouldn't have been able to take her, but..." She flourished her hands in the air "I've made some new friends and am a whole new me."

Dean scoffed, "You sure do like the sound of your own voice."

Naomi smiled and winked. "It sounds better coming out of her mouth, doesn't it, Dean?"

Dean sneered, "You know what sounds good coming out of my mouth? Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus-"

Naomi flinched, but bent over as she began to laugh. Dean stopped, chilled by the unnaturally cold laugh ringing off of the basement walls. That laugh didn't belong to the Naomi he knew. The violation fueled the anger bubbling inside of him, heating his core.

After a moment, Naomi straightened and raised her wrist towards the brothers. "Think I wouldn't have thought ahead, after all we've been through together?"

Dean recognized the same mark Sam had worn when Meg had possessed him now burned into Naomi's skin. Exorcising her out wasn't an option anymore. _There goes that plan._

The boys glared up at Naomi, silent. She added, "I made sure to get rid of any hot pokers lying around. You know, just in case."

Sam asked, "Why Naomi?"

Naomi smiled down at him. "You were always the smart one, weren't you? Thought you would have connected some dots by _now_, Sammy."

Sam worked his jaw for a moment. "We know about Sheol and how he's after Naomi to keep her away from the angels. We know about the Glory."

Naomi raised a finger and wagged it. "Sam, don't you lie to me. We both know the Glory is long gone."

Sam stared up at Naomi, silenced. Dean grimaced._ And there goes that plan too._

She squatted down beside Sam and sighed, as she inspected her fingernails, "You're lucky you boys are so good-looking. It almost makes up for how stupid you two can be."

Dean rolled his eyes. "How about you cut the cryptic crap and tell us what you want."

Naomi met Dean's eyes. "I want to see the look on your guys' faces when you realize just how long you've been played."

"Played by who?"

Naomi stood. "Duh. By us. You don't really believe that whole spiel about Sheol wanting to babysit Naomi, do you? I practically started that rumor and I'll admit, it was a weak one."

The brothers looked to each other. Sam started, "But, Castiel-"

She gestured to herself. "Hello. Demon. We live to lie. Even to angels."

Dean interjected, "How do we know you're not lying now then?"

Naomi smiled slyly and walked over to a pile of junk by one of the walls. She heaved a television monitor onto the table beside her and reached behind the set to plug it into the wall. She blew off the collecting dust as the screen came to life. She flipped the channels on the monitor a few times before settling on a news channel. The familiar face of William Callaway flashed onto the screen as he was being interviewed. Across the bottom, the words "William Callaway: The World's Saving Grace?" were spread across the screen.

Naomi muted the TV ."You've been chasing your tails, trying to find a way out of the inevitable, this whole time and not even known it." She pointed at the politician. "A snowball has started an avalanche and you don't even realize you're right in the middle of it."

Sam asked, "What does William Callaway have to do with any of this?"

Dean added, "Yeah. Nothing too special about another white guy running for office."

Naomi smirked and hoarsely whispered, "That's the whole point."

Sam shook his head. "You aren't making any sense."

Naomi dramatically sighed, "C'mon, Sam! Think! You have to know enough about your Bible to know why he might be significant, especially considering _recent _events!"

Sam stared at the floor, processing the information. Dean tried to make sense of Meg's rambling, but the attempt seemed to cause the pounding in his head to strengthen. He instead tried to discreetly loosen the rope around his wrists. As he did so, he watched the gears in Sam's head turn. His lips moved silently as his eyes flicked back and forth, as if scanning the new information in front of him. Then, the gears clicked. Sam stopped and slowly looked up, his eyes meeting Naomi's.

"He's the Anti-Christ."


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter Eighteen- The Confrontation

A smile spread across Naomi's face. "Good work, Sammy."

Dean's gaze switched between Sam and Naomi. "Hold up. You mean _he_ is _the_ Anti-Christ?" He nodded his head towards the television screen.

Sam ignored Dean's question, focusing on Naomi. "I'm assuming he's your 'new friend'?"

Naomi nodded approvingly at the screen. "The last surviving demon spawn."

Dean asked, "What happened to the others?"

Naomi shrugged, her eyes glued to the face smiling at the reporter off camera. "Killed. There can only be one."

Sam paused for a moment. "All of them are dead?"

The brothers exchanged a look. The image of a boy from a case long ago floated to the surface of Dean's memory. He could still remember how Jesse had reminded him so much of himself at his age. The weeks of sleepless nights that had followed the boy's disappearance was something Dean had never quite forgotten. His hands balled into fists.

Naomi's eyes broke away from the screen and met the brothers'. She smiled smugly. "Every last one."

Sam growled, "So, what? This guy is now the one to end the world?"

Naomi smile grew wider. "No, Sam. He isn't the snowball. He's the avalanche. He's the one that is going to _destroy_ the world."

Dean asked, already knowing the answer as the words left his lips, "Who's the snowball then?"

Naomi's smile melted into a smirk. "Why, it's Sammy."

Dean looked over at his brother, whose head was now slumped towards the ground. Sam's hair blocked Dean's view of his face, but Dean could see the muscles in Sam's arms tightening, his whole posture stiffening. Sam was preparing a defense for the onslaught that was about to come.

Naomi slowly walked towards Sam, cooing, "It's okay, Sam. You messed up. It happens." She shrugged nonchalantly, the smirk lengthening. "Your screw up just started the end of the world, and humanity as we know it, is all."

Sam's head snapped up. He hissed through his teeth, "Shut up."

Naomi stood before Sam, searching his eyes. She soothed, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear, "You did what you thought was right. How could someone be mad at you for that?"

Sam's eyes flicked towards Dean before returning back to Naomi. It didn't get past either of them.

"Ah. Dean found a way though, didn't he?" She leaned in, whispering in Sam's ear, "He doesn't understand, does he? He refuses to understand."

Dean yelled, "Shut up!"

She didn't take her eyes off Sam. "See? He won't even deny it. He doesn't care about what you have to say or what apologies you have to make. To him, you're just the baby brother who leaves behind messes that everyone else has to clean up."

Dean attempted to lunge at her again, hoping the rope would break. No dice. "I swear to God, if you don't shut your mouth-"

Naomi interrupted, sidestepping to stand in front of Dean, "What, Dean? What are you going to do? We both know you _couldn't_ do anything, not while I'm in her." She pulled the demon knife out from the back of her pants and waved it in front of his face. "I could put this in your hands right now and wouldn't even sweat." She rose up on her tippy toes and pushed the knife into his hands. "See. Not a drop."

Dean retorted, "Bite me."

Naomi winked. "Don't tempt me."

She looked to Sam again. "Tell me, Sam. When did you first figure out Dean has a little crush on Naomi?"

Sam and Dean looked at each other. Naomi faked a gasp and covered her mouth. "Oops. Did I let the cat out of the bag? Sorry, I can't resist a good love triangle."

Sam didn't break eye contact with Dean as he said evenly, "The night the spirit came into her room."

Dean started, "Sam, listen to me-"

Naomi cut him off, stepping in between the brothers and blocking Dean's view of Sam. "Let's be honest, Sam. Everyone in this room knows she's a Sam girl. Since the moment you laid eyes on her, you knew she was up your alley." She held a strand of hair between her fingers, as if examining it for split ends. "Girl Next Door personality, religious…and a redhead." She looked over her shoulder, slyly winking at Dean. "Not Dean's type by any means."

Sam looked over Naomi's shoulder, making eye contact with Dean. They held each other's gaze. Dean wished for Sam's eyes to soften, for the cold they contained to subside. _Sam, you have to understand. It just happened. I'm sorry!_

She stood close to Sam, her cheek grazing his as she turned towards Dean. She whispered, as she slid a hand slowly up his arm, "He hasn't trusted you since Ruby. He treats you like a ticking time bomb, waiting to explode and destroy everything in your blast radius."

Sam broke eye contact with Dean and stared at the ground. Naomi continued, "To him, you're just little Sammy, only good for filling up the shotgun seat. He doesn't trust you." She met Dean's eyes again as she hissed, "He doesn't trust you with _her_."

Dean watched his brother's hands ball up into fists and his back straighten. When their eyes met again, Sam's eyes brimmed with hot tears and all traces of the cold was gone. All what remained was the heat of rage. Dean was speechless.

Naomi walked up to Dean, spinning his torso towards her. He clenched his jaw, wishing he had some holy water to water board her in.

She turned to Sam and said, "Imagine it, Sam." She then turned towards Dean and looked down.

When she looked up again, she had changed. Her posture, her expressions, everything. Every trace of Meg was gone, replaced with every trace of Naomi again. Her eyes were wide, just like Dean remembered them. She tentatively placed her hands on his chest and slowly slid them up around his neck, sending chills down his back. She leaned forward and whispered tenderly, a gentle smile on her lips, "I love you, Dean Winchester."


End file.
